973.7L63 
DC65a 


Coggeshall,  E.  W. 

The  Assassination  of 
Lincoln, 


1 

THE 
ASSASSINATION 
OF    LINCOLN 

E.  W.  COGGESHALL 

LINCOLN  ROOM 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


n 


MEMORIAL 

the  Class  of  1901 

founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 

attd 

HENRIETTA  CALHOUN  HORNER 


THE  ASSASSINATION 
OF  LINCOLN 


THE 
ASSASSINATION 
OF  LINCOLN 


BY 

E.  W.  COGGESHALL 


CHICAGO 
WALTER  M.  HILL 

1924 


Copyright  1920  by 
E.  W.  COGGESHALL 


THE 

TORCH 

PRESS 

CEDAR 

RAPIDS 

IOWA 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 


When  it  was  known  in  February,  1861,  that 
a  conspiracy  to  assassinate  the  president-elect 
on  his  way  to  the  capital,  had  been  discovered 
and  thwarted,  the  peril  of  the  nation  was  the 
thought  uppermost  in  all  minds.  When  on 
the  14th  of  April,  1865,  the  news  flashed  over 
the  land,  that  conspiracy  had  compassed  the 
death  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  it  was  grief  for 
the  man  that  filled  all  hearts,  for  in  those 
four  intervening  years  his  countrymen  had 
learned  to  know,  to  love,  and  to  trust  him. 

Their  appreciation  of  his  greatness  grows 
with  the  years,  and  every  incident  in  his  re- 
markable career  gathers  new  interest. 

It  was  a  striking  tribute  to  his  complete 
identity  with  the  cause  he  served,  that  all 
through  his  administration  his  life  was 
sought,  for  never  was  there  a  man  with  fewer 
elements  in  his  character  to  excite  personal 
enmity.     Despite  the  ever  present  danger,  he 


6         ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

went  on  his  way  as  simply  and  as  fearlessly 
in  Washington  as  in  Springfield,  taking  no 
thought  for  himself,  and  yielding  reluctantly 
to  precautions  that  the  thought  of  others 
took  for  him. 

"If  they  kill  me,"  he  said,  "the  next  man 
will  be  just  as  bad  for  them.  In  a  country 
like  this,  where  our  habits  are  simple,  and 
must  be,  assassination  is  always  possible,  and 
will  come  if  they  are  determined  upon  it." 

There  could  have  been  no  more  deter- 
mined assassin  than  the  young  actor  John 
Wilkes  Booth  —  a  bitter  partisan  of  the 
Southern  cause,  with  an  actor's  love  of  dra- 
matic situations,  an  insatiable  craving  for 
notoriety,  and  recklessness  akin  to  madness. 

His  youth  —  he  was  only  twenty-six  in 
1864  —  his  personal  beauty,  his  theatrical 
manners,  and  his  fervent  devotion  to  the 
South  combined  to  fit  him  for  leadership 
among  the  spies  and  blockade  runners  who 
were  continually  passing  through  Washing- 
ton during  the  war,  ready  for  any  plot 
against  the  government  that  promised  gain 
or  glory. 

It  will  never  be  known  when  he  first  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  making  the  president  his 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN         7 

victim,  but  that  it  was  a  brooding  intent  long 
before  the  blow  was  struck  is  beyond  ques- 
tion. 

He  acted  in  Meadsville,  Pennsylvania,  in 
August,  1864,  and  when  he  left  these  words 
were  found  scratched  on  a  window  pane  in 
his  room  at  the  McHenry  House :  "Abe 
Lincoln  departed  this  life  Aug.  13th,  1864, 
by  the  effects  of  poison." 

The  circumstance  attracted  no  attention 
until  after  the  assassination,  when  it  was  con- 
nected with  an  alleged  plot  to  poison  Mr. 
Lincoln  through  the  boy  Herold,  then  a  clerk 
in  a  drug  store  in  Washington,  where  the 
president  dealt,  but  no  satisfactory  evidence 
of  such  a  plot  was  found. 

The  defeat  of  Mr,  Lincoln  in  the  presi- 
dential campaign  of  1864  was  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  the  Confederacy.  Its  fortunes 
were  becoming  desperate,  his  reelection 
meant  the  vigorous  prosecution  of  the  war 
and  the  early  suppression  of  the  rebellion. 

There  were  rumors  of  an  intended  rising 
in  New  York  City  on  election  day,  in  the 
interest  of  the  South,  so  apparently  well 
founded  that  troops  were  concentrated  in  and 
around  the  city,  and  General  Butler  was  sent 


8         ASSASSLXATION  OF  LINCOLN 

to  assume  command  of  them  in  the  emer- 
gency. 

The  election  passed  off  quietly,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln was  reelected  and  the  hatred  with 
which  he  inspired  the  enemies  of  the  Repub- 
lic increased  in  intensity. 

On  the  day  after  General  Butler  left  the 
city,  a  Mrs.  Hudspeth,  riding  in  a  Third 
Avenue  car,  was  attracted  by  the  appearance 
of  two  young  men  among  her  fellow  passen- 
gers, one  of  whom  carried  a  pistol  In  his  belt 
and  was  evidently  disguised.  She  heard  one 
of  them  say  that  he  was  going  to  Washington 
that  afternoon. 

After  they  had  left  the  car  she  picked  up 

two  letters  from  the  floor  supposing  them  to 

be  hers.     One  signed  "Leenea"  was  from  a 

woman  pleading  with  her  husband  to  return 

to  her,  the  other  in  a  man's,  and  evidently 

disguised,  hand  was  as  follows: 

Dear  Louis, 

The  time  has  at  last  come  that  we 
have  all  so  wished  for,  and  upon  you 
everything  depends.  As  It  was  decided 
before  you  left  we  were  to  cast  lots. 
Accordingly  we  did  so  and  you  are  to  be 
the  Charlotte  Corday  of  the  Nineteenth 
Century.    When  you  remember  the  fear- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

ful  solemn  vow  that  was  taken  by  us, 
you  will  feel  there  is  no  drawback.  Abe 
must  die  and  now.  You  can  choose  your 
weapons.  The  cup,  the  knife,  the  bullet. 
The  cup  failed  us  once  and  might  again. 
Johnson  who  will  give  this,  has  been  like 
an  enraged  demon  since  the  meeting, 
because  it  has  not  fallen  upon  him  to  rid 
the  world  of  the  monster.  He  says  the 
blood  of  his  gray  haired  father  and  his 
noble  brother  call  upon  him  for  revenge, 
and  revenge  he  will  have,  if  he  cannot 
wreak  it  upon  the  fountain  head,  he  will 
upon  some  of  his  bloodthirsty  generals. 
Butler  would  suit  him.  As  our  plans 
were  all  concocted  and  well  arranged, 
we  separated,  and  as  I  am  writing  on 
my  way  to  Detroit,  I  will  only  say  that 
all  rests  upon  you.  You  know  where  to 
find  your  friends.  Your  disguises  are  so 
perfect  and  complete,  that  without  one 
knew  your  face,  no  police  telegraph  des- 
patch would  catch  you.  The  English 
gentleman  Harcourt,  must  not  act  hasti- 
ly. Remember  he  has  ten  days.  Strike 
for  your  home,  strike  for  your  country; 
bide  your  time,  but  strike  sure.  Get  in- 
troduced, congratulate  him,  listen  to  his 
stories  —  not  many  more  will  the  brute 
tell  to  earthly  friends.  Do  anything  but 
fail,  and  meet  us  at  the  appointed  place 
within  the  fortnight.    I  enclose  this  note 


lo       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

together  with  one  of  poor  Leenea.  I 
will  give  the  reason  for  this  when  we 
meet.  Return  by  Johnson.  I  wish  I 
could  go  to  you,  but  duty  calls  me  to  the 
West;  you  will  probably  hear  from  me 
in  Washington.  Saunders  is  doing  us 
no  good  in  Canada. 

Believe  me  your  brother  in  love 

Charles  Selby. 

General  Scott,  to  whom  these  letters  were 
first  taken,  considered  them  of  sufficient  im- 
portance to  send  them  to  General  Dix,  who 
forwarded  them  to  Charles  A.  Dana,  assis- 
tant secretary  of  war,  at  Washington.  Dana 
laid  them  before  Mr.  Lincoln  and  while  he 
apparently  took  no  greater  interest  in  them 
than  in  the  many  other  threatening  letters  he 
received,  these  alone  he  preserved.  They 
were  found  among  his  private  papers  after 
his  death,  in  an  envelope,  endorsed  in  his 
own  hand  "Assassination." 

Beyond  the  facts  that  Booth  was  in  New 
York  on  the  day  the  letters  were  found  and 
went  from  there  to  Washington,  and  that 
upon  being  shown  his  photograph  Mrs. 
Hudspeth  swore  that  he  was  the  man  she  had 
seen,  in  disguise  —  nothing  was  ever  discov- 
ered as  to  the  plot  referred  to  or  the  parties 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        1 1 

engaged  in  it,  nor  was  the  writer  of  the  letter 
ever  identified. 

In  this  same  month,  November,  1864, 
Booth  evidently  had  in  contemplation  the 
abduction  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  He  wrote  a  letter 
which  he  placed  in  a  sealed  envelope  ad- 
dressed to  himself  and  left  with  his  brother- 
in-law,  J.  S.  Clarke,  of  Philadelphia.  This 
letter  was  opened  by  Mr.  Clarke  on  April 
17th.     It  commenced  without  address: 

1864 
My  dear  Sir:  You  may  use  this  as 
you  think  best.  But  as  some  may  wish 
to  know  when,  who,  and  why,  and  as  I 
do  not  know  how  to  direct  it,  I  give  it 
(in  the  words  of  your  master) 
"To  whom  it  may  concern." 

Right  or  wrong,  God  judge  me,  not 
man.  For  be  my  motive  good  or  bad, 
of  one  thing  I  am  sure,  the  lasting  con- 
demnation of  the  North. 

After  a  long  tirade  in  favor  of  slav- 
ery and  the  South  in  the  course  of  which 
he  refers  to  the  fact  that  he  "aided  in 
the  capture  and  execution  of  John 
Brown"  —  he  says:  "My  love  (as 
things  stand  to-day)  is  for  the  South 
alone.  Nor  do  I  deem  it  a  dishonor  in 
attempting  to  make  for  her  a  prisoner 
of  this  man,  to  whom  she  owes  so  much 


12       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

of  misery.   If  success  attend  me,  I  go 
penniless  to  her  side. 

A  Confederate  doing  duty  upon  his 
own  responsibility. 

J.  Wilkes  Booth. 

On  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  second 
inauguration  Booth  was  at  the  Capitol  and 
endeavored  to  force  his  way  through  the 
police  lines  in  the  passage  way  to  the  front 
of  the  building,  possibly  with  the  idea  of  at- 
tacking the  president,  as  he  was  heard  to  say 
afterwards  that  he  had  "lost  an  excellent 
chance  of  killing  the  president  on  that  day." 

Towards  the  end  of  March,  Secretary 
Seward  received  from  our  consuls  in  London 
and  Liverpool  reports  of  revelations  made  to 
their  secret  agents  in  France  of  a  compre- 
hensive  conspiracy  against  the  lives  of  the 
president  and  Generals  Grant  and  Sherman. 
These  warnings  were  so  distinct  and  direct, 
that  Mr.  Seward  consulted  Secretary  Stanton 
in  regard  to  them,  and  it  was  agreed  that  he 
should  lay  the  subject  before  the  president 
the  next  day,  and  earnestly  represent  to  him 
the  expediency  of  avoiding  for  a  time  all  pub- 
lic gatherings  and  all  needless  exposure  to 
possible  assault. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        13 

But  the  next  day  Mr.  Seward  was  thrown 
from  his  carriage  and,  his  foot  catching  on 
the  steps,  he  was  dragged  for  some  distance 
and  so  seriously  injured,  that  he  was  com- 
pelled to  dismiss  all  thought  of  public  mat- 
ters from  his  mind. 

No  warning,  however,  of  Booth's  conspir- 
acy seems  to  have  reached  the  government 
though  it  was  in  preparation  for  months  in 
the  city  of  Washington.  This  seems  the 
more  incredible  when  we  consider  the  num- 
ber and  character  of  those  engaged  in  it. 

Payne,  whose  real  name  was  Lewis  Thorn- 
ton Powell,  was  not  yet  of  age  though  of 
herculean  frame;  he  was  a  deserter  from  the 
Confederate  army,  of  very  limited  mental 
capacity,  and  had  been  befriended  by  Booth 
when  in  dire  extremity;  David  E.  Herold 
was  a  weak-minded  boy,  living  with  his 
mother  and  sisters  in  Washington;  John  H. 
Surratt  and  George  E.  Atzerodt  were  block- 
ade runners  of  the  Potomac,  the  latter  an 
ignorant  carriage  painter  whose  home  was  at 
Port  Tobacco  in  lower  Maryland,  and  Sam- 
uel Arnold  and  Michael  O'Laughlin  were 
Confederate  soldiers  of  Maryland. 

The  rendezvous  of  the  conspirators  was 


14       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

the  boarding  house  of  Mrs.  Mary  E.  Surratt, 
the  mother  of  John  H.,  at  541  (now  604) 
H  Street  In  Washington. 

Here,  according  to  Louis  J.  Weichmann,  a 
government  clerk  who  was  a  boarder  in  the 
house,  there  were  many  meetings  of  a  very 
suspicious  character,  which  he  made  no  at- 
tempt to  reveal  until  after  the  crime  was  com- 
mitted, as  though  then  driven  to  the  disclos- 
ure to  avert  the  suspicion  which  his  acquaint- 
ance and  close  association  with  the  perpetra- 
tors must  bring  upon  him. 
-  To  the  first  plot,  which  was  to  abduct  the 
president  and  carry  him  within  the  rebel 
lines,  all  whom  we  have  named  were  un- 
doubtedly parties.  The  plan  was  to  capture 
Mr.  Lincoln  while  riding  to  or  from  the 
Soldiers'  Home.  His  carriage  was  to  be  sur- 
rounded by  men  dressed  in  Federal  uniform, 
driven  over  the  Navy  Yard  bridge  to  Port 
Tobacco  or  Pope's  Creek  through  the  region 
known  to  those  who  carried  the  mail  between 
Richmond  and  Canada  as  "the  underground 
route." 

Atzerodt  was  to  have  a  boat  in  readiness 
to  ferry  the  party  across  the  Potomac.  Once 
in  Virginia,   in  a  country  filled  with  active         1 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        15 

Southern  sympathizers,  it  would  be  a  safe 
and  easy  journey  into  the  rebel  capital.  The 
eighteenth  of  March  was  fixed  for  the  at- 
tempt. Shortly  before  that  date  Surratt,  At- 
zerodt,  and  Herold  carried  to  a  tavern  at 
Surrattsville,  in  Prince  George's  County, 
Maryland,  owned  by  Mrs.  Surratt  but  kept 
by  a  man  named  Lloyd,  a  coil  of  rope,  two 
carbines  and  ammunition,  which  were  given 
to  Lloyd  with  instructions  to  secrete  them. 

For  some  reason  the  plot  failed  and  the 
conspirators  separated,  Surratt  going  to 
Richmond,  Arnold  to  Old  Point,  and 
O'Laughlin  to  Baltimore.  Payne,  Herold, 
and  Atzerodt,  however,  who  were  most  com- 
pletely under  the  influence  of  Booth  remained 
in  Washington. 

There  is  but  little  evidence  that  Booth 
decided  to  murder  the  president  until  April 
14th  and  none  that  he  confided  his  intention 
to  his  associates  before  that  day. 

Frederick  Stone,  counsel  for  Herold,  is  the 
authority  for  the  statement  that  "the  occa- 
sion for  Lincoln's  assassination  was  the  senti- 
ment expressed  by  the  president  in  a  speech 
delivered  from  the  steps  of  the  White  House 
on  the  night  of  April   nth  when  he  said: 


i6       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

"If  universal  amnesty  is  granted  to  the  insur- 
gents I  cannot  see  how  I  can  avoid  exacting 
in  return  universal  suffrage  or  at  least  suf- 
frage on  the  basis  of  intelligence  and  military 
service."  Booth  was  standing  before  Mr. 
Lincoln  on  the  outside  of  the  crowd.  "That 
means  nigger  citizenship,"  he  said  to  Herold 
by  his  side,  "Now,  by  God!  I'll  put  him 
through." 

But  this  probably  expressed  a  sudden 
thought  rather  than  a  settled  purpose. 

His  diary,  which  was  not  produced  on  the 
military  trial  but  was  put  in  evidence  on  the 
trial  of  Surratt,  commences  with  these  words 
under  date  of  April  14th:  "Until  to-day 
nothing  was  ever  thought  of  sacrificing  to  our 
country's  wrongs.  For  six  months  we  had 
worked  to  capture;"  and  he  made  substan- 
tially the  same  statement  to  Major  Ruggles 
at  Garrett's  farm. 

Payne  and  Atzerodt  in  the  confessions 
made  through  their  counsel  state  that  it  was 
not  until  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the 
14th  that  Booth  proposed  the  assassination. 

As  it  occurred,  it  must  have  been  the  plan 
of  that  very  day,  since  it  was  not  until  eleven 
o'clock  on  that  morning  that  the  president's 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        17 

party  decided  upon  going  to  Ford's  Theater. 

At  about  that  hour  a  messenger  from  the 
White  House  engaged  a  box  for  the  presi- 
dent and  Mrs.  Lincoln,  General  and  Mrs. 
Grant.  Boxes  7  and  8  on  the  second  tier,  to 
the  right  as  you  faced  the  stage,  were  as- 
signed to  them,  being  thrown  into  one  by  the 
removal  of  the  partition  between  them.  By 
one  of  those  singular  coincidences  that  con- 
stantly recur  in  this  tragic  story,  box  seven 
was  the  one  usually  occupied  by  Booth  when 
a  spectator  at  this  theater.  He  had  occupied 
it  only  two  weeks  before.  Flags  were  draped 
in  front  of  the  box  with  a  portrait  of  Wash- 
ington in  the  centre,  and  a  large  rocking  chair 
was  placed  at  the  left,  farthest  from  the 
stage,  which  had  been  used  by  Mr.  Lincoln 
on  his  first  visit  to  this  theater. 

It  was  noon  when  Booth  learned  of  the 
expected  visit  and  his  preparations  were 
promptly  made.  He  was  perfectly  familiar 
with  the  theater  and  a  favorite  with  all  its 
employes.  He  stabled  his  horse  in  an  alley 
in  the  rear,  in  charge  of  Edward  Spangler, 
the  scene  shifter.  He  could  enter  when  he 
pleased  without  attracting  any  attention  or 
without   fear,   if   his   movements   were    ob- 


i8       ASSASSLNATION  OF  LINCOLN 

served,  that  they  would  be  betrayed.  Per- 
sonally or  through  some  trusted  agent  he 
bored  a  hole  through  the  panel  of  the  door 
nearest  the  audience  at  about  the  height  of 
the  top  of  the  rocking  chair,  probably  for  the 
purpose  of  observation;  and  breaking  away 
the  plaster  back  of  the  passage  way  behind 
the  boxes,  prepared  a  wooden  bar  which 
when  wedged  between  the  hole  thus  made 
and  the  door  opening  into  the  dress  circle 
would  effectually  prevent  the  entrance  of  any 
one  to  arrest  his  work  or  effect  his  capture. 

He  and  Herold  hired  horses  at  different 
livery  stables,  and  were  seen  riding  around 
the  city.  Booth  boasting  of  the  speed  of  his 
horse  to  friends  whom  he  met. 

It  is  said  that  he  prepared  a  statement  of 
his  reasons  for  the  assassination  and  gave  it 
to  an  actor  friend  named  Matthews  for  in- 
sertion in  the  National  Intelligencer,  but  that 
Matthews  terrified  at  being  made  his  con- 
fidante burnt  the  paper  without  showing  it  to 
any  one. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  Booth 
called  on  Mrs.  Surratt  and  almost  immedi- 
ately afterwards  she  hired  a  horse  and  buggy 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        19 

and  taking  a  field  glass  of  his  with  her  and 
accompanied  by  Weichmann  drove  to  Sur- 
rattsvllle,  distant  about  fourteen  miles. 

Weichmann  testified  that  when  they  were 
about  three  miles  from  Washington,  observ- 
ing there  were  pickets  along  the  road,  Mrs. 
Surratt  hailed  an  old  farmer  and  wanted  to 
know  it  they  would  remain  there  all  night. 
Being  told  that  they  were  withdrawn  about 
eight  o'clock  at  night  she  said  she  "was  glad 
to  know  it." 

He  also  testified  that  when  they  reached 
the  top  of  Good  Hope  Hill,  on  their  return, 
they  saw  the  lights  of  a  procession  and  upon 
his  telling  Mrs.  Surratt,  in  answer  to  an  in- 
quiry, that  it  was  in  celebration  of  Lee's  sur- 
render she  said,  "I  am  afraid  all  this  rejoic- 
ing will  be  turned  into  mourning,  and  all  this 
glory  into  sadness." 

Lloyd,  the  keeper  of  the  tavern  at  Surratts- 
ville,  testified  that  while  there  she  gave  him 
the  field  glass  and  told  him  to  "be  sure  and 
have  those  shooting  irons  ready  for  some 
gentlemen  who  would  call  for  them  that 
night,"  and  to  have  the  field  glass  and  two 
bottles  of  whiskey  ready  for  them  and  that 


20       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

he  thereupon  took  all  the  articles  from  their 
place  of  concealment  and  put  them  on  his 
bed. 

Without  exciting  the  slightest  suspicion 
Booth  had  now  matured  his  plans,  and  at 
eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  at  the  Herndon 
House  he  announced  them  to  Payne  and 
Atzerodt,  assigning  Secretary  Seward  to  the 
former  and  Vice-President  Johnson  to  the 
latter,  while  he  reserved  to  himself  the  mur- 
der of  President  Lincoln  and  General  Grant. 

Atzerodt  evidently  had  not  the  courage 
for  his  task;  he  says,  "I  told  him  I  would  not 
do  it;  that  I  had  gone  into  the  thing  to  cap- 
ture, but  I  was  not  going  to  kill.  He  told  me 
that  I  was  a  fool ;  that  I  would  be  hung  any- 
how, and  that  it  was  death  for  every  man 
that  backed  out;  and  so  we  parted." 

Booth's  prophecy  was  to  be  verified  and 
Atzerodt  like  the  others  was  to  meet  igno- 
minious death. 


II 


Richmond  had  fallen  on  the  second  of  April, 
and  the  president  had  walked  in  safety 
through  its  streets;  Lee  had  surrendered  on 
the  9th,  and  on  the  14th  General  Anderson 
raised  over  the  ruins  of  Fort  Sumter  the  very- 
flag  he  had  lowered  in  April,  1861. 

Victory  had  come,  peace  was  at  hand,  and 
it  was  Abraham  Lincoln's  last  day  on  earth. 

Every  incident  of  that  day  will  always  be 
of  the  most  absorbing  interest. 

It  was  the  usual  day  for  the  cabinet  meet- 
ing, and  at  this  last  and  most  notable  one 
General  Grant  was  present,  having  just  re- 
turned from  the  front. 

"When  I  went  to  the  cabinet  meeting  on 
Friday,  the  14th  of  April,"  says  Secretary 
Welles,  "General  Grant,  who  had  just  ar- 
rived from  Appomattox,  was  with  the  presi- 
dent, and  one  or  two  members  were  already 
there.  Congratulations  were  interchanged, 
and  earnest  inquiry  was  made  whether  any 
information  had  been  received  from  General 


22       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

Sherman.  The  secretary  of  war  came  late 
to  the  meeting,  and  the  telegraph  office  from 
which  was  obtained  earliest  news  was  in  the 
war  department.  General  Grant,  who  was 
invited  to  remain,  said  he  was  expecting 
hourly  to  hear  from  Sherman,  and  had  a 
great  deal  of  anxiety  on  the  subject. 

"The  president  remarked  that  the  news 
would  come  and  come  favorably,  he  had 
no  doubt,  for  he  had  last  night  his  usual 
dream  which  had  preceded  nearly  every  im- 
portant event  of  the  war.  I  inquired  the  par- 
ticulars of  this  remarkable  dream.  He  said 
it  was  in  my  department  —  it  related  to  the 
water;  that  he  seemed  to  be  in  a  singular  and 
indescribable  vessel,  but  always  the  same, 
and  that  he  was  moving  with  great  rapidity 
toward  a  dark  and  indefinite  shore,  that  he 
had  had  this  singular  dream  preceding  the 
firing  on  Sumter,  the  battles  of  Bull  Run, 
Antietam,  Gettysburg,  Stone  River,  Vicks- 
burg,  Wilmington,  etc. 

"General  Grant  remarked  with  some  em- 
phasis and  asperity  that  Stone  River  was  no 
victory  —  that  a  few  such  victories  would 
have  ruined  the  country,  and  that  he  knew  of 
no  important  results  from  it. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN       23 

"The  president  said  that  perhaps  he 
should  not  altogether  agree  with  him  but 
whatever  might  be  the  facts,  his  singular 
dream  preceded  that  fight.  Victory  did  not 
always  follow  his  dream,  but  the  event  and 
results  were  important.  He  had  no  doubt 
that  a  battle  had  taken  place  or  was  about 
being  fought,  'and  Johnston  will  be  beaten, 
for  I  had  this  strange  dream  again  last  night. 
It  must  relate  to  Sherman,  my  thoughts  are 
in  that  direction,  and  I  know  of  no  other  very 
important  event  which  is  likely  just  now  to 
occur.' 

"The  subject  of  reconstruction  was  dis- 
cussed. The  president  had  only  kindly  words 
for  the  South  and  strongly  deprecated  any 
vindictive  punishment  of  its  leaders.  'No 
one  need  expect,'  he  said,  'that  he  would  take 
any  part  in  hanging  or  killing  these  men,  even 
the  worst  of  them.  Frighten  them  out  of  the 
country,  open  the  gates,  let  down  the  bars, 
scare  them  off,'  and  he  threw  up  his  arms  as 
if  scaring  sheep.  'Enough  lives  have  been 
sacrificed;  we  must  extinguish  our  resent- 
ments if  we  expect  harmony  and  union.  We 
must  now  begin  to  act  in  the  interest  of 
peace.' 


24       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 


U    M 


'With  charity  to  all,'  were  spoken,  his 
last  words  to  his  associates,  whom  he  had 
counselled  so  long  and  so  wisely  and  who 
were  next  to  meet  at  his  deathbed." 

Dana  in  his  Reminiscences  relates  an  inci- 
dent further  illustrative  of  the  kindly  spirit 
of  the  president  on  this  day. 

A  dispatch  was  received  in  the  afternoon 
from  the  Provost  Marshal  in  Portland, 
Maine.  It  said,  "I  have  positive  information 
that  Jacob  Thompson  will  pass  through  Port- 
land to-night,  in  order  to  take  a  steamer  to 
England  —  what  are  your  orders?" 

Dana  laid  the  telegram  before  Stanton 
who  promptly  answered:  "Arrest  him!"  but 
as  Dana  was  going  out  the  door  he  called  to 
him:  "No,  wait;  better  go  and  see  the  pres- 
ident." 

All  business  was  over  at  the  White  House 
for  the  day,  when  Dana  reached  it;  there  was 
no  one  in  the  president's  business  room.  As 
he  turned  to  go  out  the  president  called  to 
him  from  a  little  side  room  where  he  was 
washing  his  hands:  "Hello,  Dana  !  What 
is  it?     What's  up?" 

Dana  handed  him  the  telegram. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        25 

"What  does  Stanton  say?"  Mr.  Lincoln 
asked. 

"He  says  arrest  him,  but  that  I  should 
refer  the  question  to  you." 

"Well,"  said  he,  slowly  wiping  his  hands, 
"No  —  I  rather  think  not.  When  you  have 
got  an  elephant  by  the  hind  leg  and  he  is  try- 
ing to  run  away,  it's  best  to  let  him  run." 

"Well,  what  says  he?"  asked  Stanton 
when  Dana  returned  to  the  war  department. 

"He  says  that  when  you  have  got  an  ele- 
phant by  the  hind  leg  and  he  is  trying  to  run 
away,  it's  best  to  let  him  run." 

"Oh  stuff!"  said  Stanton. 

When  early  on  the  morning  of  the  15th  a 
messenger  from  Mr.  Stanton  roused  Dana, 
with  the  news  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  death,  he  also 
brought  the  message,  "Arrest  Jacob  Thomp- 
son," but  the  elephant  had  escaped. 

It  was  a  happy  day,  this  last  day  with  his 
family,  clouded  with  "no  sadness  of  fare- 
well;" there  was  a  long  talk  with  his  son 
Robert,  who  had  just  returned  from  the  field 
with  General  Grant;  there  was  a  long  ride 
with   his  wife,   with   cheerful   talk   of  quiet 


26       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

days  ,  now  that  the  storm  had  passed;  of  rest 
now  that  the  great  burden  was  Hfted  from  his 
shoulders;  of  the  resumption  of  practice  in 
his  quiet  home.  "His  mood  was  singularly 
happy  and  tender." 

General  and  Mrs.  Grant  were  unable  to  go 
to  the  theater,  the  general  having  been  called 
away,  and  Miss  Harris  and  Major  Rath- 
bone,  the  daughter  and  step-son  of  Senator 
Harris,  were  invited  in  their  stead.  The 
president's  carriage  called  for  them,  but  the 
president  had  been  detained  by  callers  and 
the  play  had  already  begun  when  they  ar- 
rived at  the  theater.  It  was  "Our  American 
Cousin,"  the  company,  "Laura  Keene's." 

The  theater  was  crowded.  As  the  party 
entered  the  actors  stopped,  the  orchestra 
played  "Hail  to  the  Chief,"  and  the  audience 
rose  and  cheered  vociferously. 

"On  this  occasion,"  said  Walt  Whitman, 
"the  theater  was  crowded,  many  ladies  in 
rich  and  gay  costumes,  officers  in  their  uni- 
forms, many  well  known  citizens,  young 
folks,  the  usual  cluster  of  gas  lights,  the 
usual  magnetism  of  so  many  people,  cheerful 
with  perfumes,  music  of  violins  and  flutes, 
and  over  all,   and  saturating  all,   that  vast 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        27 

vague  wonder,  victory,  the  nation's  victory, 
the  triumph  of  the  Union,  filling  the  air,  the 
thought,  the  sense  with  exhilaration  more 
than  all  music  and  perfumes." 

The  president  took  the  chair  placed  for 
him  with  Mrs.  Lincoln  on  his  right,  next  to 
whom  sat  Miss  Harris  and  a  little  behind 
Major  Rathbone,  and  the  play  went  on. 

No  other  box  was  occupied  that  evening, 
and  the  front  row  of  seats  next  to  the  presi- 
dent's box  and  opposite  to  it  were  vacant 
until  the  end  of  the  first  act. 

During  this  act  Booth  walked  down  the 
left  hand  aisle  to  the  proscenium  box  and 
leaning  his  arm  on  the  projection  of  the  stage 
cooly  and  deliberately  glanced  over  the  the- 
ater for  a  few  moments  and  went  out. 

When  the  curtain  fell  a  crowd  of  men, 
whom  it  was  afterwards  surmised  were  con- 
federates of  Booth,  came  in  and  filled  the 
vacant  seats  in  the  dress  circle. 

During  the  intermission  the  president 
chatted  cheerfully,  the  bright  look  upon  the 
face  that  had  become  so  sad  and  careworn, 
exciting  the  comment  of  many  who  knew  him. 

A  few  moments  before  the  curtain  rose  for 
the  second  act  he  rose,  laughingly  went  to  the 


28       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

rear  of  the  box,  put  on  his  overcoat,  and  re- 
sumed his  seat. 

A  little  later  and  his  last  words  were 
spoken  —  they  were  to  his  wife :  "There  Is 
no  city  I  desire  so  much  to  see  as  Jerusalem." 

"The  dark  and  Indefinite  shore"  of  his 
dream  was  very  near. 


Ill 


It  was  a  little  before  ten  o'clock  when  Booth 
led  his  horse  to  the  back  door  of  the  theater 
and  gave  it  to  "Peanuts,"  a  boy  who  worked 
about  the  theater,  to  hold;  then  he  went  to  a 
saloon  on  Tenth  Street,  next  door  to  the  the- 
ater, and  took  a  drink. 

A  man  now  passed  along  the  aisle  to  the 
president's  box  and  appeared  to  hand  a  card 
to  the  messenger  who  sat  on  the  steps.  He 
immediately  entered  the  box  and  when  he  re- 
appeared the  man  returned  to  the  front  of 
the  theater. 

In  a  few  moments  Booth  passed  rapidly 
through  the  crowd  in  the  rear  of  the  dress 
circle,  noticed  only  by  those  whom  he  incom- 
moded, and  without  interference  entered  the 
passage  way  to  the  president's  box. 

Without  attracting  the  attention  of  any  of 
its  occupants,  between  whom  and  himself 
there  was  now  only  the  door  through  which 
he  had  bored  the  hole,  he  fastened  the  outer 


30       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

door  by  wedging  the  wooden  bar  between  It 
and  the  wall  behind. 

It  was  the  second  scene  of  the  third  act  — 
the  dairy  scene  —  and  Harry  Hauk  as  Asa 
Trenchard  alone  occupied  the  stage  —  the 
situation  being  doubtless  selected  by  Booth  as 
most  favorable  to  his  escape.  "Not  one,  not 
even  the  comedian  on  the  stage,  could  ever 
remember  the  last  words  of  the  piece  that 
were  uttered  that  night  —  the  last  Abraham 
Lincoln  ever  heard  on  earth.  The  whole 
performance  remains  in  the  memory  of  those 
who  heard  it  a  vague  phantasmagoria,  the 
actor  the  thinnest  of  spectres.  The  awful 
tragedy  in  the  box  makes  everything  else 
seem  pale  and  unreal.  Here  were  five  hu- 
man beings  in  a  narrow  space  —  the  greatest 
man  of  his  time,  in  the  glory  of  the  most  stu- 
pendous success  in  our  history,  the  idolized 
chief  of  a  nation  already  mighty,  with  illimit- 
able vistas  of  grandeur  to  come,  his  beloved 
wife,  proud  and  happy;  a  pair  of  betrothed 
lovers,  with  all  the  promise  of  felicity  that 
youth,  social  position,  and  wealth  could  give 
them;  and  this  young  actor,  handsome  as 
Endymion  upon  Latmos,  the  pet  of  his  little 
world. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        31 

"The  glitter  of  fame,  happiness,  and  ease 
was  upon  the  entire  group,  but  in  an  instant 
everything  was  to  be  changed  with  the  bHnd- 
ing  swiftness  of  enchantment.  Quick  death 
was  to  come  on  the  central  figure  of  that  com- 
pany—  the  central  figure  we  believe  of  the 
great  and  good  men  of  the  century. 

"Over  all  the  rest  the  blackest  fates  hov- 
ered menacingly  —  fates  from  which  a 
mother  might  pray  that  kindly  death  would 
save  her  children  in  their  infancy.  One  was 
to  wander  with  the  stain  of  murder  on  his 
soul,  with  the  curses  of  a  world  upon  his 
name,  with  a  price  set  upon  his  head,  in 
frightful  physical  pain,  till  he  died  a  dog's 
death  in  a  burning  barn;  the  stricken  wife  to 
pass  the  rest  of  her  days  in  melancholy  and 
madness;  of  these  two  young  lovers,  one  was 
to  slay  the  other  and  then  end  his  life  a  rav- 
ing maniac." 

With  a  pistol  in  one  hand  and  a  knife  in 
the  other  Booth  entered  the  box,  put  the 
pistol  to  the  back  of  the  president's  head,  and 
fired,  crying  as  he  did  so,  "Revenge,"  or 
"Revenge  for  the  South." 

Major  Rathbone  sprang  forward  to  seize 
him,   but   dropping  his  pistol   on   the   floor 


32       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

Booth  turned  upon  him  and  inflicted  a  deep 
wound  with  his  knife,  in  the  left  arm  between 
the  elbow  and  the  shoulder. 

He  had  reached  the  front  of  the  box  when 
Major  Rathbone  caught  him  by  his  clothes, 
crying,  "Stop  that  man,"  but  placing  his  left 
hand  on  the  railing  Booth  vaulted  lightly  to 
the  stage.  A  trained  athlete  and  accustomed 
to  making  sensational  leaps  In  his  plays,  this 
one  of  fourteen  feet  would  probably  have 
been  accomplished  in  safety,  but  his  spur 
caught  in  the  folds  of  the  flag  in  front  of  the 
box  and  he  fell  heavily  to  the  stage  with  his 
back  to  the  audience,  splintering  horizontally 
the  fibula  of  his  right  leg. 

From  that  moment  his  doom  was  sealed, 
for  though  there  was  to  be  an  interval  of 
hope,  it  was  to  be  accompanied  by  torture 
greater  than  the  utmost  cruelty  could  have 
devised  for  him,  and  escape  was  as  impos- 
sible as  though  he  were  already  in  the  hands 
of  the  government  he  had  outraged. 

He  rose  quickly  to  his  feet,  turned  to  his 
last  audience,  brandishing  his  knife  and 
shouting,  Sic  semper  tyrrannis,  he  moved  rap- 
idly diagonally  across  the  stage. 

William  Withers,  the  leader  of  the  orches- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        33 

tra,  had  had  some  business  on  the  stage  and 
was  returning  to  the  orchestra  when  Booth 
came  towards  him  and  stabbed  at  him,  cut- 
ting great  gashes  in  his  coat.  This  was  the 
only  interruption  to  his  escape  from  the 
theater. 

In  all  that  assembly,  at  first  stunned  and 
then  wild  with  excitement,  there  was  but  one 
man  with  presence  of  mind  enough  to  spring 
upon  the  stage  and  attempt  to  capture  the 
assassin.  This  was  Joseph  B.  Stewart,  a 
lawyer  of  Washington. 

Reaching  the  alley  and  knocking  down  the 
boy  who  was  holding  his  horse,  Booth 
mounted,  while  Stewart  who  had  followed 
close  behind  twice  attempted  to  seize  the 
bridle.  The  quick  wheeling  of  the  horse 
thwarted  his  attempt  and  at  a  rapid  pace 
Booth  galloped  through  the  alley  to  F  Street, 
passed  for  two  miles  through  the  heart  of 
the  city,  and  giving  his  real  name  to  the 
picket  at  the  Navy  Yard  bridge,  with  the 
statement  that  he  lived  near  "Beantown  in 
Charles  County  and  had  been  detained  in  the 
city"  was  allowed  to  cross. 

Walt  Whitman  graphically  described  the 
scene  in  the  theater : 


34       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

"A  moment's  hush  —  a  scream  —  the  cry 
of  murder  —  Mrs.  Lincoln  leaning  out  of 
the  box,  with  ashy  cheeks  and  lips,  with  in- 
voluntary cry,  pointing  to  the  retreating  fig- 
ure, 'He  has  killed  the  president.'  And  still 
a  moment's  strange  incredulous  suspense  — 
and  then  the  deluge!  then  that  mixture  of 
horror,  noises,  uncertainty  (the  sound  some- 
where back,  of  a  horse's  hoofs  clattering  with 
speed),  the  people  burst  through  chairs  and 
railings  and  break  them  up  —  there  is  in- 
extricable confusion  and  terror  —  women 
faint  —  quiet  feeble  persons  fall  and  are 
trampled  on  —  many  cries  of  agony  are 
heard  —  the  broad  stage  suddenly  fills  to  suf- 
focation with  a  dense  and  motley  crowd,  like 
some  horrible  carnival  —  the  audience  rush 
generally  upon  it,  at  least  the  strong  men 
do  —  the  actors  and  actresses  are  all  there 
in  their  play  costumes  and  painted  faces,  with 
mortal  fright  showing  through  the  rouge  — 
the  screams  and  calls,  confused  talk  re- 
doubled, trebled  —  two  or  three  manage  to 
pass  up  water  from  the  stage  to  the  presi- 
dent's box  —  others  try  to  clamber  up. 

"In  the  midst  of  all  this,  the  soldiers  of  the 
President's    Guard,    with    others,   suddenly 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        35 

drawn  to  the  scene,  burst  in  (some  two  hun- 
dred altogether),  they  storm  the  house, 
through  all  the  tiers,  especially  the  upper 
ones,  inflamed  with  fury,  literally  charging 
the  audience  with  fixed  bayonets,  muskets  and 
pistols,  shouting  'Clear  out!      Clear  out!' 

"Such  the  wild  scene  or  a  suggestion  of  it 
rather,  inside  the  play  house  that  night. 

"And  in  the  midst  of  that  pandemonium, 
infuriated  soldiers,  the  audience  and  the 
crowd,  the  stage  and  all  its  actors  and  act- 
resses, its  paint  pots,  spangles  and  gas 
lights  —  the  life  blood  from  those  veins,  the 
best  and  sweetest  of  the  land,  drops  slowly 
down  and  death's  ooze  already  begins  its 
little  bubbles  on  the  lips." 

The  president's  head  had  dropped  for- 
ward and  his  eyes  were  closed.  Without 
thought  of  his  own  condition,  Major  Rath- 
bone  rushed  to  the  door  to  call  for  aid.  He 
found  it  barred  from  within  while  people  on 
the  outside  were  clamoring  for  admission. 
One  of  the  first  to  enter,  when  with  some  dif- 
ficulty the  door  had  been  opened,  was  Dr. 
Charles  A.  Leale,  assistant  surgeon  of 
United  States  Volunteers  who  at  that  time 
was  in  charge  of  the  United  States  General 


36       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

Hospital  In  Washington.  Dr.  Leale  found 
Mr.  Lincoln  pulseless  at  the  wrist  and  ap- 
parently dead.  Stretching  him  out  upon  the 
floor,  the  heart  failure  was  relieved  and 
pulsation  resumed.  He  then  made  a  careful 
examination,  discovering  that  the  wound  was 
positively  fatal  and  that  recovery  even  to 
consciousness  was  impossible.  A  large  der- 
ringer bullet  had  entered  the  back  of  the 
head  on  the  left  side,  passed  through  the 
brain  and  lodged  just  behind  the  left  eye. 

Dr.  Leale  immediately  resorted  to  forced 
respiration  and  It  was  through  his  prompt 
efforts  that  Mr.  Lincoln's  life  was  prolonged 
until  morning. 

Under  the  doctor's  directions  the  presi- 
dent was  removed  to  the  nearest  a\'ailable 
house,  that  of  a  Mr.  Peterson,  516  Tenth 
Street  —  diagonally  opposite  the  theater. 
He  was  carried  Into  a  small  room  at  the  rear 
of  the  hall  on  the  first  floor,  then  occupied  by 
a  Mr.  William  S.  Clark  and  before  him  by 
the  actor,  Matthews,  the  friend  to  whom 
Booth  had  confided  the  manuscript  Intended 
to  justify  his  act.  Mrs.  Lincoln,  half  dis- 
tracted, followed,  attended  by  Miss  Harris, 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        37 

while  Major  Rathbone  having  fainted  from 
loss  of  blood  was  taken  to  his  home. 

With  this  great  tragedy  Ford's  Theater 
closed  never  to  be  re-opened. 

It  was  taken  by  the  government,  and  after 
alteration  used  as  a  medical  museum  until  on 
June  8th,  1893,  it  fell  —  by  a  singular  co- 
incidence, on  the  day  of  the  death  of  Edwin 
Booth. 


IV 


At  about  the  same  time  that  Booth  entered 
Ford's  Theater,  Payne  and  Herold  rode  to 
Secretary  Seward's  residence  on  Madison 
Place. 

Leaving  Herold  to  hold  his  horse,  Payne 
rang  the  bell.  He  held  a  small  package  in 
his  hand  and  told  the  colored  boy  who 
opened  the  door  that  Dr.  Verdi,  Mr.  Sew- 
ard's attending  physician,  had  sent  him  to 
give  some  medicine  to  the  secretary,  in  per- 
son. Mr.  Seward  was  lying  in  a  front  room 
on  the  third  floor  with  a  broken  arm  and 
fractured  jaw,  the  result  of  the  runaway  acci- 
dent already  mentioned. 

Despite  the  boy's  objections,  Payne  pushed 
past  him  and  walked  noisily  up  the  two 
flights  of  stairs.  His  heavy  tread  had  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  Frederick  Seward, 
the  assistant  secretary  of  state,  and  he  met 
the  intruder  near  the  door  of  the  sick  room. 

Payne  repeated  his  statement  that  he  was 
instructed  by  the  doctor  to  deliver  some  med- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        39 

icine  for  the  secretary  and  to  give  it  to  him 
personally.  Frederick  Seward  replied  that 
they  were  endeavoring  to  compose  his  father 
to  sleep  and  that  he  would  take  the  medicine 
to  him.  On  Payne's  continuing  to  insist  that 
the  doctor's  orders  were  that  he  should  see 
the  secretary,  Mr.  Seward  finally  said:  "It 
is  not  worth  while  to  talk  any  longer  about  it; 
you  cannot  see  Mr.  Seward.  I  will  take  the 
responsibility  of  refusing  to  let  you  see  him. 
Go  back  and  tell  the  doctor  if  you  think  you 
cannot  intrust  me  with  the  medicine.  T  am 
Mr.  Seward  and  in  charge  here.  He  will  not 
blame  you  if  you  tell  him  I  refused  to  let  you 
see  him." 

After  a  moment's  hesitation  Payne  said, 
"Very  well,  sir.  I  will  go,"  and  turned  as  if 
to  go  down  stairs  but  at  the  top  step  he  sud- 
denly turned  and  struck  Frederick  Seward  on 
the  head  with  his  heavy  pistol  with  such  force 
as  to  break  the  cartridge  extractor.  Mr. 
Seward  struggled  with  his  assailant  until  he 
fell  to  the  floor  in  a  swoon  from  which  he 
did  not  recover  for  many  days. 

There  were  in  the  secretary's  room  Miss 
Fannie  Seward,  his  daughter,  and  Sergeant 
George  T.  Robinson,  his  nurse.    Hearing  the 


40       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

disturbance  in  the  hall,  Robinson  opened  the 
door.  Instantly  Payne  felled  him  with  a  blow 
on  his  forehead  from  his  knife,  and  pushing 
Miss  Seward  aside  as  she  approached  him, 
threw  himself  on  the  secretary's  bed  and 
stabbed  him  three  times,  once  on  the  right 
cheek  and  twice  in  the  neck. 

Robinson  recovering  himself  jumped  upon 
the  bed  and  threw  his  arms  around  Payne, 
succeeding  after  a  severe  struggle  in  drag- 
ging him  off,  while  the  secretary  rolled  out 
upon  the  floor  and  beneath  the  bed. 

Robinson's  struggle  with  the  assassin  was 
now  continued  on  the  floor,  and  he  received 
three  severe  wounds  before  he  was  able,  with 
the  assistance  of  Major  Augustus  Seward,  a 
younger  son,  who  had  entered  the  room,  to 
force  Payne  into  the  hall.  Here  he  again 
knocked  Robinson  down  and  extricating  him- 
self from  Major  Seward  rushed  down  stairs, 
overtaking  and  stabbing  Mr.  Hansell,  a  mes- 
senger of  the  state  department,  who  was 
seeking  help. 

At  the  cry  of  "murder"  from  an  upper 
window,  Herold  left  Payne's  horse  and 
mounting  his  own  fled  down  Pennsylvania 
Avenue  to  Fourteenth  Street,  recognized  and 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        41 

pursued  by  the  man  from  whom  he  had  hired 
his  horse.  Following  Booth  to  the  navy  yard 
bridge  he  gave  the  name  of  Smith,  said  that 
he  was  going  home  to  White  Plains,  and 
after  some  parley  was  allowed  to  cross  while 
the  owner  of  the  horse  who  arrived  soon 
after  was  refused. 

Payne  had  been  instructed  by  Booth  to 
meet  him  beyond  the  Anacosta  bridge,  but 
Payne  was  not  familiar  with  the  city  and  had 
depended  upon  Herold  as  a  guide,  so  he  now 
rode  out  Vermont  Avenue  to  the  eastern  sub- 
urb, leaving  behind  him  his  blood-stained 
knife,  the  broken  revolver,  and  his  hat. 

Losing  his  way  and  fearing  that  his  ap- 
pearance would  excite  suspicion,  he  aban- 
doned his  horse,  which  was  found  loose  next 
morning  at  Lincoln  Branch  Barracks,  about 
three  quarters  of  a  mile  east  of  the  capitol, 
and  took  refuge  in  the  woods.  For  three 
days  and  nights  he  remained  in  hiding  and 
then  returned  to  the  house  on  H  Street  which 
had  been  the  headquarters  of  the  conspiracy. 


V 


Mr.  Lincoln  was  carried  into  the  little  hall 
bedroom  of  the  Peterson  house  and  laid 
diagonally  across  the  cottage  bedstead,  as  he 
was  too  tall  to  be  placed  in  any  other  posi- 
tion. Here  soon  were  gathered  all  those  to 
whom  the  sad  summons  had  been  sent  (in- 
cluding all  the  members  of  the  cabinet  save 
Secretary  Seward),  Dr.  Robert  King  Stone, 
the  president's  family  physician  and  Surgeon 
General  Barnes. 

From  a  crowd  bursting  into  the  White 
House,  Robert  Lincoln  and  Major  Hay  had 
heard  the  dreadful  news,  and  their  worst 
fears  were  confirmed  by  Dr.  Stone  who  met 
them  on  their  arrival  at  the  little  house  on 
Tenth  Street. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  was  in  the  front  parlor  with 
her  bonnet  and  gloves  on  just  as  she  had  left 
the  theater.  "Why  didn't  they  shoot  me?" 
was  her  repeated  exclamation. 

In  the  room  in  which  Mr.  Lincoln  lay.  Dr. 
Stone   was   sitting  upon   the   bed.   Secretary 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        43 

Welles  occupied  a  rocking  chair  which  he  did 
not  leave  during  the  night,  and  Surgeon  Gen- 
eral Barnes,  seated  by  the  bedside,  held  the 
president's  left  hand.  All  other  persons  were 
standing.  Senator  Sumner  and  Robert  Lin- 
coln the  greater  part  of  the  night  leaning 
over  the  head  board. 

Others  who  were  in  the  room  during  the 
whole  or  part  of  the  night  were  Vice-Presi- 
dent Johnson,  Chief  Justice  Chase,  Gen. 
Farwell  of  Wisconsin,  Gov.  Oglesby  of  Illi- 
nois, Speaker  Colfax,  Generals  Halleck,  An- 
gur,  and  Todd,  Assistant  Secretary  Otto, 
Judge  Carter,  Congressman  Fainsworth  of 
Illinois,  Assistant  Surgeons  Leale  and  Crane, 
Major  John  Hay,  Colonel  Tod,  Rev.  Dr. 
Gurley,  Maunsell  B.  Field,  Thomas  Proctor, 
Rufus  F.  Andrews,  and  Charlie,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln's body  servant. 

From  time  to  time  Mrs.  Lincoln  was 
brought  into  the  room  but  never  remained 
long. 

The  president's  eyes  were  closed,  and,  save 
his  loud  stertorous  breathing  which  could  be 
heard  all  over  the  house,  and  the  sobbing  of 
his  wife  and  devoted  servant,  no  sound  was 
to  be  heard  in  that  room  for  hours.     His 


44        ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

pulse  was  at  times  strong  and  rapid  and  then 
feeble  and  slow. 

The  effect  of  the  sudden  and  fearful  calam- 
ity that  had  befallen  the  nation  had  been 
paralyzing.  The  extent  and  scope  of  the  con- 
spiracy was  unknown,  and  doubt  and  appre- 
hension filled  all  hearts.  There  was  one  man, 
however,  cool,  clear-headed,  and  full  of 
activity  —  Secretary  Stanton. 

He  sat  at  a  little  table  in  the  back  parlor 
swiftly  dictating  dispatches;  grasping  the 
present  situation,  anticipating  the  possibilities 
of  the  future,  and  taking  precautions  for 
every  emergency. 

"One  of  his  first  telegrams  was  to  General 
Dix,  the  military  commander  of  New  York," 
says  Dana,  and  no  clearer  brief  account  of 
the  tragedy  exists  to-day  than  this,  though 
written  scarcely  three  hours  after  the  scene  in 
Ford's  Theater  while  the  president  lay  dying 
in  the  next  room  and  the  city  was  wild  with 
excitement. 

Washington,  April  15th,  i  130  A.M. 
Maj.  Gen.  Dix,  New  York: 

Last  evening,  at  10:30  p.m.,  at 
Ford's  Theater  the  president,  while  sit- 
ting in  his  private  box  with  Mrs.  Lin- 
coln, Miss  Harris  and  Major  Rathbone, 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        45 

was  shot  by  an  assassin  who  suddenly 
entered  the  box.  He  approached  behind 
the  president.  The  assassin  then  leaped 
upon  the  stage,  brandishing  a  long  dag- 
ger or  knife,  and  made  his  escape  by  the 
rear  of  the  theater.  The  pistol  ball  had 
entered  the  back  of  the  president's  head. 
The  wound  is  mortal.  The  president 
has  been  insensible  ever  since  it  was  in- 
flicted and  is  now  dying. 

About  the  same  hour  an  assassin, 
either  the  same  or  another,  entered  Mr. 
Seward's  house,  and  under  pretense  of 
having  a  prescription  was  shown  to  the 
secretary's  chamber.  The  secretary  was 
in  bed.  The  assassin  immediately  rushed 
to  the  bed,  inflicted  two  or  three  stabs 
on  the  throat,  and  two  in  the  face. 

It  is  hoped  the  wounds  may  not  be 
mortal.  My  apprehension  is  that  they 
will  prove  fatal.  The  nurse  alarmed 
Mr.  Frederick  Seward,  who  was  in  the 
adjoining  room,  and  hastened  to  the 
door  of  his  father's  room,  where  he  met 
the  assassin,  who  inflicted  upon  him  one 
or  more  dangerous  wounds. 

The  recovery  of  Frederick  Seward  is 
doubtful. 

It  is  not  probable  that  the  president 
will  live  through  the  night. 

Gen.  Grant  and  wife  were  advertised 
to    be    at    the    theater,    but    the    latter 


46       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

started  to  Burlington  at  six  o'clock,  last 
evening. 

At  a  cabinet  meeting  at  which  Gen. 
Grant  was  present  to-day,  the  subject  of 
the  state  of  the  country  and  the  pros- 
pects of  speedy  peace  were  discussed. 

The  president  was  very  cheerful  and 
hopeful,  spoke  very  kindly  of  Gen.  Lee 
and  others  of  the  Confederacy,  and  the 
establishment  of  government  in  Vir- 
ginia. 

All  the  members  of  the  cabinet  except 
Mr.  Seward  are  now  in  attendance  upon 
the  president.  I  have  seen  Mr.  Seward, 
but  he  and  Frederick  were  both  uncon- 
scious. 
Edwin  M.  Stanton,  Sec'y  of  War. 

In  the  same  room  with  Mr.  Stanton,  Chief 
Justice  Carter  was  already  collecting  evi- 
dence as  to  the  conspiracy. 

The  long  night  passed  and  morning 
came  —  dull  and  rainy. 

The  loud  breathing  ceased,  a  look  of  un- 
speakable peace  came  upon  the  worn  and 
rugged  face. 

At  seven  o'clock  the  breath  came  faint  and 
low,  at  twenty-two  minutes  past  it  ceased. 

*'Now  he  belongs  to  the  ages,"  said  Stan- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN       47 

ton,  and  Dr.  Gurley  kneeling  at  the  bedside 
offered  a  fervent  prayer. 

For  the  last  time  Mrs.  Lincoln  came  in 
and  threw  herself  upon  the  body  of  her  hus- 
band. 

When  she  retired  all  left  the  room  and  a 
sentry  was  stationed  before  the  closed  door. 

In  the  front  parlor  Dr.  Gurley  again  of- 
fered prayer  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  led  to  the 
president's  carriage  which  had  been  standing 
at  the  door  all  through  the  night.  As  she 
reached  the  steps  she  glanced  at  the  theater 
and  three  times  repeated,  "Oh,  that  dreadful 
house." 

An  hour  later  Mr.  Lincoln's  body  was 
placed  in  a  plain  wooden  box  around  which 
was  wrapped  the  American  flag,  and  borne 
on  the  shoulders  of  six  private  soldiers  to  an 
ordinary  hearse.  With  these  men  marching 
as  mourners  the  simple  cortege  passed  almost 
unnoticed  to  the  White  House. 

It  was  fitting  that  the  first  tribute  to  this 
plain  man  of  the  people  should  be  so  simple 
and  that  his  first  mourners  should  come  from 
the  ranks. 


VI 


Three  army  officers  (Generals  Oliphant  and 
Baker  and  Colonel  Woodward)  stood  at  the 
corner  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue  and  Four- 
teenth Street  on  the  night  of  the  assassination 
watching  a  torch-light  procession  in  celebra- 
tion of  the  national  victories,  when  a  man 
came  running  up  the  avenue  and  made  the 
startling  announcement  that  the  president 
had  just  been  shot  in  Ford's  Theater, 

It  seemed  too  terrible  to  be  credible,  but 
there  was  no  room  for  doubt  —  the  man  had 
seen  the  president  carried  from  the  theater, 
he  had  heard  the  statement  of  the  doctors 
that  he  could  not  live. 

The  first  inclination,  naturally,  was  to  go 
to  the  scene  of  the  tragedy,  but  this  was 
checked  by  the  thought  that  perhaps  this  was 
the  first  act  of  a  gigantic  conspiracy  and  that 
as  military  men  their  first  duty  was  to  see 
that  the  garrison  of  the  city  was  aroused  — 
if  it  had  not  been. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN       49 

They  made  all  speed  to  General  Angur's 
headquarters,  carrying  the  first  intelligence 
to  the  single  orderly  whom  they  found  in 
charge. 

The  next  alarm  was  given  at  the  quarters 
of  the  Fire  Brigade  organized  for  the  pro- 
tection of  government  property,  lest  incen- 
diarism might  be  a  part  of  the  plot,  and  then 
they  went  on  to  the  headquarters  of  General 
Gile  who  was  in  command  of  the  troops  con- 
stituting the  immediate  garrison  of  the  city. 

Here  again  they  found  only  a  single  order- 
ly. While  one  of  the  officers  went  to  the 
general's  lodgings  the  others  went  to  the 
Martindale  Barracks  where  two  regiments  of 
veteran  reserves  were  quartered. 

The  long  roll  was  sounded,  and  in  ten  min- 
utes a  thousand  men  were  in  line.  Squads 
were  immediately  despatched  to  protect  the 
residences  of  cabinet  officers  and  other  prom- 
inent officials. 

At  General  Angur's  headquarters  officers 
were  now  continually  arriving,  each  with  a 
new  and  more  startling  report,  until  among 
the  victims  of  the  plot  beside  the  president 
and  secretary  of  state,  were  the  vice-presi- 


50       ASSASSLNATION  OF  LINCOLN 

dent,  General  Grant,  and  Secretary  Stanton. 
A  correspondent  of  the  Boston  Advertiser 
wrote  at   1 1  :i5   P.M. : 

A  shock  from  heaven  laying  half  the 
city  in  ruins  would  not  have  startled  us 
as  did  the  word  that  started  out  from 
Ford's  Theater  half  an  hour  ago,  that 
the  president  had  been  shot.  It  Hew 
everywhere  in  five  minutes  and  set  five 
thousand  feet  in  swift  and  excited  mo- 
tion on  the  instant. 

*'No  one  not  present,"  says  one  who  was, 
"could  possibly  form  any  true  conception  of 
the  horror  mingled  with  apprehension  of 
threatened  danger  which  pervaded  the  city. 
In  the  midst  of  the  wild  rumors  that  followed 
each  other  in  quick  succession,  every  one  was 
holding  his  breath,  not  knowing  what  to  ex- 
pect." 

General  Angur  encircled  the  city  with  his 
pickets  stationed  about  fifty  feet  apart,  cav- 
alry was  placed  on  all  roads  leading  from 
Washington,  and  military  detectives  scoured 
the  country  with  orders  to  arrest  any  sus- 
picious persons. 

The  guard  under  command  of  Major  Cul- 
lom  at  the  Navy  Yard  was  strengthened  and 
two  monitors,  the  "Sangus"  and  "Montauk," 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        51 

with  strong  detachments  of  marines  on 
board,  were  moored  at  the  Navy  Yard  wharf 
to  provide  for  any  emergency. 

The  whole  machinery  of  the  war  depart- 
ment was  devoted  to  the  discovery  and  cap- 
ture of  the  murderer  of  the  president,  as  yet 
unknown,  and  his  accomplices. 

The  first  important  arrests  were  made  on 
Monday,  April  17th.  A  party  of  detectives 
under  the  charge  of  Major  H.  W.  Smith  had 
taken  possession  of  Mrs.  Surratt's  house  and 
arrested  its  inmates. 

At  half-past  eleven  at  night  as  the  prison- 
ers were  about  to  be  removed  there  was  a 
knock  and  ring  at  the  door.  It  was  opened 
by  one  of  the  officers,  and  Payne  entered. 
He  was  covered  with  mud,  carried  a  pick-axe 
over  his  shoulder,  and  wore  on  his  head  as  a 
cap  the  sleeve  of  a  woolen  shirt. 

He  hesitated  at  sight  of  the  officers  and 
said,  "I  guess  I  am  mistaken."  "Whom  do 
you  want  to  see?"  "Mrs.  Surratt,"  he  an- 
swered.    "You  are  right;  walk  in." 

He  was  asked  what  he  came  there  at  that 
time  of  night  for  and  answered  that  he  came 
to  dig  a  gutter;  Mrs.  Surratt  had  sent  for 
him.     In  answer  to  further  questions  he  said 


UBRARV 

liNivEisnnr  of  iiuhok 


52       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

that  he  had  no  money,  was  a  poor  man  who 
earned  his  living  with  his  pick,  that  he  had 
had  no  previous  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Sur- 
ratt,  but  that  she  had  engaged  him  because  he 
was  working  in  the  neighborhood. 

Major  Smith  went  to  the  parlor  door  and 
asked  Mrs.  Surratt  to  step  into  the  hall.  As 
she  did  so  he  said  to  her,  "Do  you  know  this 
man,  and  did  you  hire  him  to  come  and  dig  a 
gutter  for  you?" 

Raising  her  right  hand  she  answered,  "Be- 
fore God,  sir,  I  do  not  know  this  man,  and 
have  never  seen  him,  and  I  did  not  hire  him 
to  dig  a  gutter  for  me." 

Payne  said  nothing. 

He  had  spent  the  night  at  Mrs.  Surratt's 
on  one  or  two  occasions,  and  she  knew  him 
well.  On  her  trial  there  was  no  attempt  to 
deny  such  knowledge  but  only  to  prove  that 
her  eyesight  was  defective  and  that  the  light 
in  the  hall  was  not  strong  enough  to  enable 
her  to  recognize  him. 

He  was  taken  to  General  Angur's  head- 
quarters, where  his  answers  to  the  questions 
put  to  him  excited  the  suspicion  that  he  was 
the  man  who  had  attempted  the  life  of  Sec- 
retary Seward.     To  verify  this  suspicion  he 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        53 

was  placed  in  a  room  with  two  other  men, 
with  the  light  turned  down  so  as  to  imitate  as 
nearly  as  possible  the  light  in  the  Seward 
house  at  the  time  of  the  assault,  and  the  col- 
ored boy  who  admitted  him  was  sent  for.  As 
he  entered  the  room  he  threw  up  his  hands 
with  an  exclamation  of  horror,  and  pointing 
to  Payne  said,  "That  is  the  man." 

Payne  was  heavily  ironed  and  put  on 
board  one  of  the  monitors  at  the  Navy  Yard 
in  a  closely  guarded  cell.  In  his  despair  he 
attempted  suicide  by  beating  his  head  against 
the  iron  walls  of  his  cell.  To  prevent  fur- 
ther attempts  a  padded  hood  was  made 
which  completely  covered  his  head,  leaving 
nothing  but  his  mouth  and  nostrils  exposed. 

The  next  prisoner  received  on  the  Monitor 
was  Atzerodt,  then  Spangler,  Arnold,  and 
O'Laughlin.  The  leader  and  principal  actor 
in  the  great  conspiracy  was  still  at  large  and 
the  government  held  no  clues  as  to  where  he 
had  found  refuge. 


VII 

At  about  eleven  o'clock  Booth  crossed  the 
Navy  Yard  bridge  and  Herold  followed 
soon  after.  Each  asked  of  teamsters  whom 
they  met  on  Good  Hope  Hill  if  a  horseman 
had  passed  ahead.  Together  they  reached 
Surratt's  tavern.  Herold  alone  dismounted, 
asking  Lloyd:  "for  God's  sake  to  get  those 
things,"  and  without  a  question  Lloyd  im- 
mediately gave  him  the  carbines,  field  glass, 
and  whiskey.  They  remained  only  a  few 
minutes,  long  enough  for  Herold  to  take  the 
whiskey  to  Booth  as  he  sat  on  his  horse. 
Herold  took  one  of  the  carbines,  but  Booth 
said  he  could  not  take  his  because  his  leg  was 
broken.  The  tragedian  in  his  nature  would 
not  permit  him  to  keep  silence  as  to  the 
events  of  the  night.  "I  will  tell  you  some 
news,"  he  said  to  Lloyd,  "if  you  want  to  hear 
it.  I  am  pretty  certain  that  we  have  assassi- 
nated the  president  and  Secretary  Seward;" 
then  they  rode  rapidly  on  toward  T.  B. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        55 

Just  before  day  break  on  the  morning  of 
Saturday,  April  15th,  they  met  a  negro  and 
asked  to  be  directed  to  the  nearest  doctor. 
He  gave  them  the  name  of  Dr.  Samuel  A. 
Mudd,  whose  house  they  had  passed  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  back.  They  went  back  to  the 
doctor's,  arriving  about  half-past  four  In  the 
morning,  after  a  ride  of  thirty  miles.  To 
account  for  their  appearance  at  such  an  hour 
Herold  told  the  doctor  that  "while  riding 
rapidly  his  companion's  horse  had  fallen  on 
him  and  broken  his  leg,"  and  that  he  was  in 
need  of  treatment. 

Booth  was  evidently  in  great  suffering  as 
the  doctor  and  Herold  lifted  him  from  his 
horse  and  helped  him  into  the  house.  After 
his  leg  had  been  rudely  set  with  splints 
broken  from  a  segar  box,  Booth  and  Herold 
were  shown  into  a  bed  room  on  the  second 
floor  and  retired. 

Booth  was  disguised  by  a  long  black  beard 
and  gave  the  name  of  Boyd,  but  Dr.  Mudd 
had  met  him  several  times,  and  on  the  way  to 
Dry  Tortugas  confessed  to  the  officer  in 
charge  of  him  that  he  recognized  Booth  on 
his  arrival  but  was  afterwards  afraid  to  tell 


56       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

of  his  having  been  at  his  house  lest  his  own 
life  and  the  lives  of  his  family  would  be  en- 
dangered by  the  admission. 

Booth  did  not  get  out  of  bed  until  the  time 
came  for  leaving  the  house  between  four  and 
five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  doctor 
saw  his  patient  but  once  before  his  departure, 
but  Herold  came  down  to  breakfast  and  re- 
peated his  story  of  the  accident.  He  said 
they  were  anxious  to  cross  the  Potomac  that 
day  and  asked  the  direction  to  the  house  of 
Parson  Wilmer,  one  of  the  very  few  Union 
men  of  the  vicinity.  It  was  only  a  half-mile 
away  by  a  short  cut  through  Zekiah  Swamp, 
a  marsh  fifteen  miles  long  which  began  a 
short  distance  from  the  doctor's  house,  and 
the  doctor  pointed  out  this  route. 

During  the  morning  Booth  borrowed  a 
razor  and  shaved  off  his  mustache,  and  a 
rough  pair  of  crutches  was  made  for  him. 
He  ate  neither  the  breakfast  nor  the  dinner 
that  were  sent  him  nor  the  delicacies  that  the 
doctor's  wife  prepared  and  brought  to  him. 
He  refused  whiskey  and  asked  for  brandy, 
but  there  was  none  in  the  house. 

At  dinner  Herold  manifested  so  much 
anxiety  to  secure  some  conveyance  to  take 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        57 

them  to  the  river  that  the  doctor  suggested 
going  to  his  father's  at  Bryantown  with  him 
to  try  and  get  a  buggy.  But  the  next  day  was 
Easter  and  the  buggy  could  not  be  spared,  so 
Herold  turned  back  alone  saying  that  he 
would  get  his  friend  away  on  horseback. 
Despite  Mrs.  Mudd's  objections  they  started 
on  horseback  about  four  o'clock,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  swamp,  "Herold  saying  that  he 
would  take  his  friend  to  his  lady  love's  which 
was  a  short  distance  off." 

They  were  not  seen  again  by  any  of  the 
Mudd  family. 

At  Bryantown,  Dr.  Mudd  heard  of  the 
assassination  and  found  a  body  of  soldiers  in 
pursuit  of  the  assassin,  who  was  not  then 
known  to  be  Booth.  Neither  was  it  then 
known  that  the  assassin  had  broken  his  leg, 
and  John  H.  Surratt  was  supposed  to  be  his 
companion,  so  the  doctor  did  not  connect 
with  the  murder  the  two  visitors  who  had  left 
his  house  two  hours  before  he  returned.  At 
church  the  next  day,  however,  he  told  his 
cousin,  George  Mudd,  a  Union  man,  of  his 
two  visitors  and  mentioned  as  a  suspicious 
circumstance  that  one  of  them  had  shaved  off 
his  mustache. 


58       ASSASSLNATION  OF  LINCOLN 

The  detectives  visited  the  doctor's  house 
several  times.  He  told  them  of  the  visit  of 
the  two  men,  their  inquiries  about  Parson 
Wilmer,  the  incident  about  the  mustache,  and 
the  direction  they  had  taken  in  leaving,  cor- 
rectly describing  Booth's  horse. 

On  the  last  visit  the  doctor  volunteered  the 
information  that  a  long  riding  boot  had  been 
left  in  the  bed  room  occupied  by  his  guests, 
and  produced  it.  Turning  down  the  edge  of 
the  boot  the  initials  "J.  W.  B."  were  found, 
and  Booth  being,  by  that  time,  known  to  be 
the  assassin.  Dr.  Mudd  was  arrested. 

Booth  and  Herold  wandered  through  the 
swamp  all  night,  travelling  about  twelve 
miles  in  as  many  hours.  They  were  again 
indebted  to  a  negro  for  guidance.  In  the 
early  morning  of  Easter  Sunday,  April  i6th, 
when  a  few  miles  east  of  Bryantown,  they 
met  Otis  Swann  who  conducted  them  to  the 
nearest  house,  which  proved  to  be  that  of 
Capt.  Samuel  Cox,  known  as  "Rich  Hill." 
Captain  Cox  was  an  activ^e  Southern  sym- 
pathizer of  considerable  wealth  who  lived  in 
the  southwestern  part  of  Charles  County, 
about  four  miles  from  the  Potomac. 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        59 

when  they  stopped  at  the  captain's  gate. 
Booth  sat  on  his  horse  while  Herold  went  to 
arouse  Cox.  As  he  refused  to  give  their 
names,  Cox  refused  to  receive  them.  Then 
Booth  dismounted  and  hobbling  to  the  piazza 
held  a  brief  conference,  at  the  end  of  which 
the  captain  said  in  a  loud  voice,  "I  cannot 
receive  you  gentlemen,  whom  I  know  nothing 
about."  This  was  intended  for  the  ears  of 
the  negro  Swann,  who  was  now  dismissed. 

When  he  had  gone,  Booth  told  who  he 
was,  exhibiting  his  initials  in  India  ink  on  his 
arm. 

He  appealed  to  the  captain  tragically,  in 
the  name  of  his  mother,  not  to  betray  him, 
telling  him  that  he  was  sick,  with  a  broken 
limb,  that  what  he  had  done  he  had  thought 
was  for  the  best  interests  of  the  South,  and 
that  all  that  he  asked  was  assistance  in  cross- 
ing the  river. 

Cox  promised  his  aid  and  sent  his  over- 
seer, Franklin  Roby,  to  guide  the  men  to  a 
safe  hiding  place.  This  was  an  old  tobacco 
bed  in  a  dense  thicket  of  pines  about  two 
miles  south  of  the  house  and  a  mile  south  of 
the  present  railway  station  of  Cox's  (Bel 
Alton)   on  the  Baltimore  and  Potomac  rail- 


6o       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 


road.  The  house  of  a  man  named  Collis 
now  stands  on  the  exact  spot. 

Provided  with  blankets  and  food  for  a 
day,  they  were  urged  to  keep  perfectly  quiet 
and  signals  were  arranged  by  which  they 
should  know  any  one  sent  to  their  aid. 

Although  that  section  of  the  country  was 
then  overrun  by  ten  thousand  cavalry  and 
one-fourth  as  many  detectives,  the  govern- 
ment never  knew  what  became  of  Booth  and 
Herold  from  early  Sunday  morning  to  the 
next  Sunday,  a  period  of  eight  days,  until  the 
publication  of  George  Alfred  Townsend's 
article  in  the  Century  of  April,  1884,  "How 
Wilkes  Booth  Crossed  the  Potomac." 

The  information  given  by  Townsend  was 
supplemented  by  a  little  book  by  Thomas  A. 
Jones,  who  described  himself  on  the  title- 
page  as  "The  only  living  man  who  can  tell 
the  story."  It  was  published  in  1893  and  a 
copy  purchased  by  the  writer  in  the  house  in 
which  Abraham  Lincoln  died. 

Jones,  who  is  now  dead,  was  a  foster 
brother  of  Captain  Cox  and  had  been  his 
overseer.  He  lived  in  a  little  place  called 
"Huckleberry"  and  had  been  actively  en- 
gaged through  the  war  in  aiding  the  Con- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN       6i 

federacy  by  carrying  Its  mails  and  convey- 
ing spies  and  blockade  runners  across  the 
Potomac. 

On  the  morning  of  Easter  Sunday,  Cap- 
tain Cox's  son  came  to  Jones's  house  to  say 
that  his  father  wanted  to  see  him.  On  his 
arrival  at  Rich  Hill,  the  captain  walked  with 
him  to  an  open  space  some  distance  from  the 
house  so  that  there  might  be  no  danger  that 
their  conversation  would  be  overheard,  and 
said,  "Tom,  I  had  visitors  about  four  o'clock 
this  morning." 

"Who  were  they  and  what  did  they 
want?" 

"They  want  to  get  across  the  river;"  then 
in  a  whisper: 

"Have  you  heard  that  Lincoln  was  killed 
on  Friday  night?"  Jones  had  heard  it  from 
two  soldiers  the  night  before. 

"Tom,  we  must  get  those  men  across  the 
river. 

Then  he  told  Jones  what  had  passed  in  his 
interview  with  Booth,  saying  when  he  had 
finished,  "Tom,  you  must  get  him  across." 

Jones  was  troubled;  he  realized  the  dan- 
gers and  difficulties  attending  the  part  he  was 
asked  to  play,  but  finally  replied:     "Sam,  I 


62       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

will  see  what  I  can  do,  but  the  odds  are 
against  me.  I  must  see  those  men ;  where  are 
they?  Cox  told  him  and  gave  him  the  sig- 
nal agreed  upon. 

Herold  came  out  and  led  him  to  where 
Booth  was  lying  on  the  ground,  partly  cov- 
ered with  a  blanket,  his  head  supported  by 
his  hand,  his  pistols  and  knife  close  beside 
him,  evidently  suffering  much  pain. 

Jones  promised  to  do  what  he  could  to  get 
them  over  the  river  but  warned  them  that  it 
would  be  unsafe  to  make  any  move  so  long 
as  the  neighborhood  was  so  full  of  soldiers. 

Booth  held  out  his  hand  and  thanked  him. 
He  told  him  that  he  had  killed  the  president 
and  knew  that  the  United  States  would  use 
every  means  in  its  power  to  capture  him,  but, 
he  added,  "John  Wilkes  Booth  will  never  be 
taken  alive." 

He  manifested  the  greatest  desire  to  see 
the  newspapers  and  know  what  was  thought 
of  his  deed.  He  was  much  distressed  to  find 
that  it  was  received  with  so  little  approbation 
at  the  South. 

Fearing  that  the  horses  might  betray  the 
hiding  place,  they  were  led  about  a  mile  into 
the  swamp  by  Herold  and  Roby  and  shot. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN       63 

In  a  week  the  bodies  had  disappeared  and 
nothing  of  them  was  ever  seen. 

Before  this  happened,  however,  a  large 
troop  of  colored  cavalry  came  to  ask  the 
route  the  men  had  taken  after  leaving  Cox's 
house.  The  captain  gave  the  general  direc- 
tion of  the  swamp  and  stood  with  his  son 
watching  the  troopers  as  they  entered  it. 
The  buzzards  could  be  plainly  seen  hovering 
over  the  spot  where  the  bodies  of  the  horses 
lay. 

"My  son,"  said  Cox,  "if  those  men  enter 
below  the  spot  where  the  bodies  of  the  horses 
are,  I  shall  hang  for  it."  But  they  entered 
above  and  beating  the  swamp  from  Captain 
Cox's  to  Dr.  Mudd's  found  neither  men  nor 
horses,  and  while  Captain  Cox  was  arrested 
shortly  after  on  suspicion,  his  real  connection 
with  Booth's  escape  was  not  known  until 
years  after. 

Jones  owned  the  only  two  boats  on  the 
Maryland  shore,  and  upon  his  retention  of 
one  of  these  depended  Booth's  only  chance  of 
crossing  the  Potomac.  The  larger  boat  lay 
up  Pope's  Creek,  hidden  in  the  grass  of 
Dent's  meadow,  a  retired  spot  back  of 
Huckleberrv  farm,  a  mile  from  the  road  and 


64       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

out  of  sight  of  any  house.  This  was  the  point 
from  which  he  intended  sending  Booth  across 
the  river,  and  to  retain  control  of  the  boat 
his  colored  man,  Henry  Woodland,  was  in- 
structed to  fish  every  day,  returning  the  boat 
to  its  place  of  concealment  at  night. 

Every  day  Jones  carried  food  to  the  fugi- 
tives in  a  basket,  ostentatiously  calling  to  the 
hogs  as  if  about  to  feed  them. 

When  he  visited  Booth  on  Monday,  April 
17th,  he  found  him  in  great  suffering  and  im- 
patient to  seek  shelter  and  the  medical  aid  of 
which  he  stood  so  much  in  need,  but  even 
as  he  spake  a  body  of  cav^alry  passed  within 
two  hundred  yards  of  them  and  the  impossi- 
bility of  any  movement  was  apparent.  "You 
see,  my  friend,"  said  Jones,  "we  must  wait." 
"Yes,"  Booth  answered,  "I  leave  it  all  with 
you." 

After  his  usual  visit  on  Tuesday,  the  i8th, 
Jones  went  to  Port  Tobacco  to  ascertain  the 
number  and  disposition  of  troops  in  the  vicin- 
ity. In  the  bar  room  of  the  old  Brawner 
hotel  (now  St.  Charles)  he  met  Captain 
Williams,  a  Washington  detective  whom  he 
knew.     Williams,    suspecting,    as    he    after- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN       65 

wards  admitted,  that  Jones  could  give  valu- 
able information  if  he  would,  said  to  him,  "I 
will  give  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  to 
any  man  who  will  give  me  the  information 
that  will  lead  to  Booth's  capture."  Jones  re- 
plied: "That  is  a  large  sum  of  money  and 
ought  to  get  him  if  money  can  do  it." 

"When  we  consider,"  says  Townsend, 
"that  the  end  of  the  war  had  come  and  all 
the  Confederate  hopes  were  blasted  and 
every  man's  slave  free,  we  may  reflect  upon 
the  fidelity  of  this  poor  man  whose  land  was 
not  his  own  and  with  inevitable  poverty  be- 
fore him  perhaps  for  the  rest  of  his  days." 

"Murderer  though  I  knew  him  to  be,"  says 
Jones,  "his  condition  so  enlisted  my  sympathy 
in  his  behalf  that  my  horror  of  his  deed  was 
almost  forgotten  in  my  compassion  for  the 
man.  .  .  Had  I  for  money  betrayed  one 
to  whom  I  had  promised  succor 
the  pale  face  of  the  man  whose  life  I  had  sold 
would  have  haunted  me  to  my  grave." 

On  Wednesday,  April  19th,  the  day  of  the 
impressive  funeral  services  in  Washington 
and  of  memorial  services,  scarcely  less  im- 
pressive, throughout  the  country,  the  assassin 


66       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

lay  writhing  in  pain,  devoured  with  impa- 
tience, while  his  eager  pursuers  surrounded 
him  on  every  hand. 

On  Thursday,  April  20th,  while  sorrow- 
ing multitudes  gazed  upon  the  peaceful  face 
of  the  great  victim,  under  the  dome  of  the 
Capitol,  the  chance  of  escape  for  the  mur- 
derer seemed  well  nigh  hopeless.  From  neg- 
lect and  exposure  his  leg  had  become  terribly 
swollen  and  inflamed,  and  his  suffering  was 
intense. 

Through  six  long  and  weary  days  and  five 
dark  and  restless  nights,  the  weather  cold 
and  damp.  Booth  lay  in  hiding,  tortured  with 
physical  pain  and  reading  only  the  world's 
just  condemnation  of  his  deed. 

On  Friday,  April  21st,  Jones  continued 
his  investigations,  riding  over  to  Allen's 
Fresh,  a  small  village  about  three  miles  to 
the  east  of  his  house,  where  Zekiah  Swamp 
ends  and  the  Wicomico  River  begins.  He 
found  some  cavalrymen  in  the  village  store, 
but  had  scarcely  entered  when  their  guide, 
John  R.  Walton,  came  in  to  report  that  the 
fugitives  had  been  seen  in  St.  Mary's,  and 
immediately  the  troops  mounted  and  rode  out 
of  the  village.     As  there  were  now  no  other 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        67 

troops  in  the  neighborhood,  Jones  concluded 
that  the  time  had  come.  The  night  was  dark 
and  foggy  and  the  chances  favorable  to  the 
attempt. 

Riding  back  to  the  hiding  place  he  said, 
"The  coast  seems  to  be  clear  and  the  dark- 
ness favors  us.     Let  us  make  the  attempt." 

With  great  difficulty  Booth  was  lifted  upon 
Jones's  horse,  each  movement  wringing  from 
him  a  groan.  Herold  walked  beside  him, 
while  Jones  about  sixty  yards  in  advance 
made  sure  that  the  coast  was  clear. 

Along  a  cart  track  to  the  public  road  one 
and  a  half  miles  away,  then  for  a  mile  along 
the  road,  then  for  another  mile  through 
Jones's  place,  cautiously  and  silently  they 
made  their  way.  The  house  of  Sam  Thomas, 
a  negro,  was  to  be  passed  where  there  were 
children,  and  the  house  of  John  Ware,  where 
there  were  dogs,  but  protected  by  the  dark- 
ness and  the  fog  they  passed  in  safety,  and 
arriving  at  Huckleberry  about  nine  o'clock 
stopped  under  a  pear  tree  fifty  yards  from 
the  house. 

Jones  said,  "Wait  here  while  I  go  and  get 
you  some  supper  which  you  can  eat  here 
while  I  get  something  for  myself." 


68       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

"Oh,"  said  Booth,  "Can't  I  go  in  and  get 
some  of  your  hot  coffee?" 

"It  cut  me  to  the  heart,"  says  Jones,  "when 
this  poor  creature,  whose  head  had  not  been 
under  a  roof,  who  had  not  tasted  warm  food, 
felt  the  glow  of  a  fire,  or  seen  a  cheerful  light, 
for  nearly  a  week,  there  in  a  dark,  wet  night, 
at  my  threshold,  made  this  piteous  request  to 
be  allowed  to  enter  a  human  habitation.  I 
felt  a  great  wave  of  pity  for  him  and  a  lump 
rose  in  my  throat  as  I  answered,  'My  friend, 
it  wouldn't  do.  Indeed  it  would  not  be  safe. 
There  are  servants  in  the  house  who  would 
be  sure  to  see  you  and  then  we  would  all  be 
lost.  Remember  this  is  your  last  chance  to 
get  away.'  " 

It  was  just  a  week  before  at  this  hour  that 
his  hand  had  taken  the  life  of  the  president. 
Who  could  imagine  a  greater  punishment 
than  had  been  meted  out  to  him. 

After  supper  they  crossed  an  open  field  to 
the  river.  Jones  and  Herold  assisted  Booth 
to  the  shore  and  placed  him  in  the  stern  of 
the  boat  with  an  oar  to  steer  with. 

Lighting  a  candle  Jones  showed  him  on  his 
compass  what  their  course  should  be  to  bring 
them  into  Machodoc  Creek,  on  the  Virginia 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN       69 

shore.  "Mrs.  E.  R.  Quesenbury  lives  near 
the  mouth  of  the  creek,"  he  said.  "If  you 
tell  her  you  come  from  me  I  think  she  will 
take  care  of  you."  Then  with  a  caution  to 
keep  their  light  hidden,  he  said,  "Good 
night." 

As  he  was  shoving  the  boat  off  Booth  ex- 
claimed, "Walt  a  minute  old  fellow,"  and 
offered  him  some  money  of  which  he  took 
eighteen  dollars,  the  cost  of  his  boat. 

In  a  voice  choked  with  emotion  Booth 
said,  "God  bless  you,  my  dear  friend,  for 
all  you  have  done  for  me.  Good  bye,  old 
fellow." 

The  government  detectives  afterwards 
learned  that  Henry  Woodland  had  taken  the 
boat  used  by  Booth  to  the  spot  from  which 
they  left  the  Maryland  shore,  but  he  swore 
positively  that  the  boat  had  been  sunk  there, 
pointing  out  the  exact  spot,  and  he  was  be- 
lieved. He  was  living  In  1896  and  admitted 
that  he  perjured  himself,  but  that  In  doing  so 
he  saved  the  life  of  his  master  and  his  mas- 
ter's best  friend.  Captain  Cox. 


VIII 

Booth  and  Herold  were  not  to  reach  the 
Virginia  shore  that  night,  and  the  delay  of 
another  day  meant  discovery  and  capture. 
The  night  was  dark,  there  was  a  heavy  flood 
tide,  and  Herold  had  had  no  experience  with 
the  oar.  At  daylight  of  Saturday,  April  22d, 
they  were  still  on  the  Maryland  side  of  the 
river.  Twice  during  the  night,  as  Booth  told 
Mrs.  Quesenbury,  they  were  within  an  oar's 
length  of  Federal  gunboats  patrolling  the 
river  and  could  distinctly  hear  the  voices  of 
those  on  board. 

It  was  impossible  to  make  any  further  at- 
tempt to  cross  until  night,  so  they  landed  and 
went  into  hiding  near  Nanjemoy  stores  in 
Nanjemoy  Cove,  Herold  securing  food  at  the 
house  of  Col.  John  J.  Hughes,  telling  him 
who  they  were  and  what  they  had  done. 

It  was  probably  here  that  Booth  made  the 
final  entry  in  the  diary  that  was  found  upon 
his  body  after  his  death,  whose  contents  are 
given  in  full: 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        71 

"Te  Amo" 
Apr.  14,  Friday,  the  Ides. 

Until  to-day  nothing  was  ever 
thought  of  sacrificing  to  our  country's 
wrongs.  For  six  months  we  had  worked 
to  capture.  But  our  cause  being  almost 
lost,  something  decisive  and  great  must 
be  done.  But  the  failure  was  owing  to 
others  who  did  not  strike  for  their  coun- 
try with  a  heart.  I  struck  boldly,  and 
not  as  the  papers  say.  I  walked  with  a 
firm  step  through  a  thousand  of  his 
friends;  was  stopped  but  pushed  on.  A 
colonel  was  at  his  side.  I  shouted  sic 
semper  before  I  fired.  In  jumping  broke 
my  leg.  I  passed  all  his  pickets,  rode 
sixty  miles  that  night,  with  the  bones  of 
my  leg  tearing  the  flesh  at  every  jump. 

I  can  never  regret  it.  Though  we 
hated  to  kill,  our  country  owed  all  our 
troubles  to  him,  and  God  simply  made 
me  the  Instrument  of  his  punishment. 

The  country  is  not  what  It  was.  This 
forced  union  Is  not  what  I  have  loved. 
I  care  not  what  becomes  of  me.  I  have 
no  desire  to  outlive  my  country.  This 
night  [before  the  deed]  I  wrote  a  long 
article  and  left  It  for  one  of  the  editors 
of  the  National  Intelligencer,  in  which  I 
fully  set  forth  our  reasons  for  our  pro- 
ceedings.    He  or  the  South. 


72       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

Friday  21. 

After  being  hunted  like  a  dog  through 
swamps,  woods  and  last  night  being 
chased  by  gunboats  till  I  was  forced  to 
return  wet,  cold  and  starving,  with 
every  man's  hand  against  me,  I  am  here 
in  despair.  And  why?  For  doing  what 
Brutus  was  honored  for  —  what  made 
Tell  a  hero.  And  yet  I,  for  striking 
down  a  greater  tyrant  than  they  ever 
knew  am  looked  upon  as  a  common 
cut-throat.  My  action  was  purer  than 
either  of  theirs.  One  hoped  to  be  great 
himself.  The  other  had  not  only  his 
country's  but  his  own  wrongs  to  avenge. 
I  hoped  for  no  gain.  I  knew  no  private 
wrong.  I  struck  for  my  country  and 
that  alone.  A  country  that  groaned  be- 
neath this  tyranny,  and  prayed  for  this 
end,  and  yet  now  behold  the  cold  hand 
they  extend  to  me.  God  cannot  pardon 
me  if  I  have  done  wrong.  Yet  I  cannot 
see  any  wrong,  except  in  serving  a  de- 
generate people. 

The  little,  the  very  little,  I  left  behind 
to  clear  my  name,  the  government  will 
not  allow  to  be  printed.  So  ends  all. 
For  my  country  I  have  given  up  all  that 
makes  life  sweet  and  holy,  brought  mis- 
ery upon  my  family,  and  am  sure  there 
is  no  pardon  in  the  Heaven  for  me,  since 
man    condemns    me    so.     I    have    only 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        73 

heard  of  what  has  been  done,  (except 
what  I  did  myself),  and  it  fills  me  with 
horror.  God,  try  and  forgive  me,  and 
bless  my  mother.  To-night  I  will  once 
more  try  the  river  with  the  intent  to 
cross  although  I  have  a  greater  desire 
and  almost  a  mind  to  return  to  Wash- 
ington, and  in  a  measure  clear  my 
name  —  which  I  feel  I  can  do.  I  do  not 
repent  the  blow  I  struck.  I  may  before 
my  God,  but  not  to  men.  I  think  I  have 
done  well  though  I  am  abandoned  with 
the  curse  of  Cain  upon  me,  when,  if  the 
world  knew  my  heart  that  one  blow 
would  have  made  me  great,  though  I 
did  desire  no  greatness.  To-night  I  try 
to  escape  these  bloodhounds  once  more. 
Who,  who  can  read  his  fate?  God's 
will  be  done.  I  have  too  great  a  soul  to 
die  like  a  criminal.  O  may  He,  may  He 
spare  me  this,  and  let  me  die  bravely. 
I  bless  the  entire  world.  Have  never 
hated  or  wronged  any  one.  This  last 
was  not  a  wrong,  unless  God  deems  it 
so.  And  it  is  with  Him  to  damn  or  bless 
me.  And  for  the  brave  boy  with  me, 
who  often  prays  (yes,  before  and  since) 
with  a  true  and  sincere  heart  —  was  it 
crime  in  him?  If  so,  why  can  he  pray 
the  same?  I  do  not  want  to  shed  a  drop 
of  blood,  but  "I  must  fight  the  course." 
'Tis  all  that's  left  me. 


74       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

After  having  eluded  the  vigilant  search  of 
scores  of  soldiers  and  detectives,  Booth  and 
Herold  were  seen  during  this  Saturday  by  a 
negro,  and  the  information  given  by  him  re- 
sulted in  their  capture.  The  second  attempt 
to  cross  the  Potomac  was  made  on  Saturday 
night,  but  it  was  not  until  Sunday  morning, 
April  23d,  that  they  reached  the  Virginia 
shore.  Instead  of  making  their  landing  in 
Machodoc  Creek  they  entered  Gumbo  Creek, 
which  was  about  a  mile  from  Mrs.  Quesen- 
bury's  house. 

Hiding  Booth  on  the  shore,  Herold  made 
his  way  to  the  house  which  he  reached  about 
eleven  o'clock,  telling  Mrs.  Quesenbury  that 
Jones  had  directed  them  to  her  and  that  "the 
man  who  killed  Abe  Lincoln  was  within  a 
mile  of  the  house." 

With  Thos.  Harbin,  a  brother-in-law  of 
Jones,  and  Joseph  Badden  of  Prince 
George's  County,  Maryland,  she  returned 
with  Herold  and  had  an  interview  with 
Booth.  He  told  her  he  thought  the  worst  of 
his  trip  was  over,  and  that  while  his  journey 
thus  far  had  been  attended  with  much  dan- 
ger, he  anticipated  little  danger  on  the  re- 
mainder of  the  way,  as  he  expected  soon  to 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        75 

be  among  friends.  But  his  leg  caused  him 
intense  suffering  and  he  asked  to  be  taken  to 
the  house  of  the  nearest  physician.  This  was 
Dr.  Richard  Stewart,  who  lived  eight  miles 
away. 

Dinner  was  sent  to  the  fugitives  In  their 
hiding  place  on  the  creek  and  afterwards 
Booth  was  taken  to  the  house  of  William 
Bryan,  who  had  been  employed  to  take  them 
to  Dr.  Stewart's. 

The  whole  party  was  intoxicated  when  at 
about  six  o'clock  on  Sunday  evening  they 
reached  the  doctor's.  As  an  active  agent  of 
the  Confederacy  he  had  been  continually 
under  suspicion  and  had  only  just  been  re- 
leased from  a  second  imprisonment. 

He  gave  them  supper  but  would  do  noth- 
ing more  for  them,  stating  that  his  house  was 
full  and  that  as  the  murderer  of  President 
Lincoln  was  still  at  large  he  could  not  afford 
to  shelter  any  one  whom  he  did  not  know. 
When  Herold  said  to  him,  "Doctor,  we  have 
a  secret  to  tell  you,"  the  doctor  replied, 
"Young  man  if  you  have  any  secrets,  keep 
them.  I  do  not  want  to  know  your  secret, 
and  if  you  are  going  South  you  had  better  go 
immediately."    He  sent  them  to  the  house  of 


76       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

William  Lucas,  a  free  negro  living  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away.  On  his  arrival 
Booth  frightened  Lucas  so  much  by  the  an- 
nouncement that  he  had  killed  "that  damned 
old  tyrant,  Abe  Lincoln,"  that  he  begged 
them  to  leave  his  house.  They  not  only  re- 
fused to  do  this  but  made  Lucas  procure 
whiskey  for  them  and  they  spent  the  night  in 
a  drunken  debauch. 

Dr.  Stewart's  cavalier  treatment  greatly 
offended  Booth,  and  before  leaving  on  the 
morning  of  Monday,  April  24th,  he  sent  the 
following  to  him,  written  on  a  page  torn 
from  his  diary: 

My  idea  [piece  torn  out]  forgive  me, 
but  1  have  some  little  pride.  I  cannot 
blame  you  for  your  want  of  hospitality. 
You  know  your  own  affairs.  I  was  sick, 
tired,  with  a  broken  limb,  and  in  need 
of  medical  advice.  I  would  not  have 
turned  a  dog  from  my  door  in  such  a 
plight.  However  you  were  kind  enough 
to  give  us  something  to  eat,  for  which  I 
not  only  thank  you,  but  on  account  of 
the  rebuke  and  manner  in  which  to 
[piece  torn  out].  It  is  not  the  substance 
but  the  way  in  which  kindness  is  extend- 
ed that  makes  one  happy  in  the  accept- 
ance  thereof.     The    sauce   to    meat    is 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        77 

ceremony.  Meeting  were  bare  without 
it.  Be  kind  enough  to  accept  the  en- 
closed $5.  (although  hard  to  spare)  for 
what  I  have  received. 

Most  respectfully  your  obedient  ser- 
vant. [No  signature.] 

In  Lucas's  wagon  they  now  started  for  the 
Rappahannock.  They  took  dinner  at  "Of- 
fice Hall,"  the  residence  of  William  McDan- 
iell,  and  reached  Port  Conway  at  about  three 
in  the  afternoon. 

Here  was  the  ferry  run  by  William  Rol- 
lins. The  boat  was  a  flat-bottomed  scow, 
poled  across  the  river,  which  was  about  three 
hundred  yards  wide  at  this  point,  by  a  negro 
named  Peyton  Washington.  It  was  aground 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river  when  they 
arrived  and  Rollins,  who  was  about  setting 
his  nets,  told  them  it  would  be  several  hours 
before  he  could  take  them  over. 

While  they  were  waiting  three  Confed- 
erate officers  came  to  the  ferry:  Major 
Ruggles,  Lieut.  A,  R.  Bainbridge,  and  Capt. 
William  S.  Jett,  all  of  Mosby's  command 
which  had  just  surrendered.  They  had  heard 
of  the  assassination  and  that  the  assassin  had 
been  arrested  in  Washington.  Herold  got 
out  of  the  wagon  and  asked  to  what  com- 


78       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

mand  they  belonged.  When  told  he  said,  "If 
I  am  not  too  inquisitive  can  I  ask  where  you 
are  going?"  Jett  answered,  "That's  a  secret, 
where  we  are  going." 

Herold  said  that  their  name  was  Boyd, 
that  his  brother  had  been  wounded,  that  they 
were  anxious  to  get  away  but  that  the  negro 
Lucas  refused  to  take  them  any  further.  He 
asked  Jett  if  he  would  help  them  to  get 
through  the  lines. 

Jett  said  he  couldn't  go  with  any  man  he 
didn't  know  anything  about. 

Herold  became  quite  excited  and  said, 
"We  are  the  assassinators  of  the  president," 
and  gave  their  real  names. 

Greatly  surprised  at  this  announcement, 
the  three  officers  after  conferring  for  a  few 
moments  agreed  to  assist  them. 

Booth,  now  getting  out  of  the  wagon,  hob- 
bled towards  them  and  said,  "I  suppose  you 
have  been  told  who  I  am."  Receiving  an 
affirmative  answer,  he  threw  his  weight  on 
his  crutch  and  drawing  his  revolver  said 
cooly:  "Yes,  I  am  John  Wilkes  Booth,  the 
slayer  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  and  I  am  worth 
just  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand 
dollars  to  the  man  who  captures  me." 

His  face,  haggard  and  pinched  with  suf- 


ASSASSINATlOxN  OF  LINCOLN        79 

fering,  his  whole  appearance  betokening  the 
hardships  he  had  undergone,  he  stood  des- 
perate and  at  bay. 

Ruggles  said  that  while  they  did  not  sanc- 
tion his  act  they  were  not  men  to  take  "blood 
money"  and  that  they  would  keep  the  prom- 
ise made  to  his  friend  to  take  him  to  a  place 
of  safety. 

"God  bless  you,  sir,"  said  Booth. 

They  lifted  him  upon  Ruggles's  horse  and 
crossed  the  river  together,  intently  watched 
by  Rollins,  who  said  nothing.  As  they  landed 
Booth  exclaimed:  "I'm  safe  in  glorious  old 
Virginia,  thank  God." 

Jett,  who  knew  the  country  and  the  people, 
tried  to  find  a  refuge  with  a  woman  at  Port 
Royal,  representing  Booth  to  be  a  wounded 
Confederate,  but  she  would  not  receive  him. 
He  was  equally  unsuccessful  at  the  house  of 
a  Mr.  Cattell  —  he  was  away.  He  then  pro- 
posed that  they  should  take  Booth  to  the 
Garrett  farm,  about  three  miles  distant  on 
the  road  to  Bowling  Green,  tell  the  family 
who  he  was,  and  trust  to  their  hospitality  to 
see  him  kindly  cared  for  until  he  should  see 
fit  to  seek  other  quarters. 

"I'm  in  your  hands,"  said  Booth,  "do  with 
me  as  you  think  best." 


8o       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

With  Booth  mounted  behind  Jett  and 
Herold  behind  Ruggles  they  set  out. 

The  Garrett  house  stood  some  distance 
back  from  the  road  and  was  a  plain  farm 
building  with  a  wide  piazza  in  front. 

Herold  wanted  to  go  to  Bowling  Green  to 
buy  a  pair  of  shoes,  and  went  no  further  than 
the  gate,  Jett  going  to  the  house  with  Booth. 
He  did  not  carry  out  his  intention  of  telling 
who  he  was  but  introduced  him  to  Mr.  Gar- 
rett as  James  William  Boyd,  the  son  of  an 
old  friend,  wounded  in  the  Confederate 
cause,  and  asked  Garrett  to  take  care  of  him 
until  Wednesday  when  he  would  return  for 
him. 

The  rest  of  the  party  rode  on  to  Bowling 
Green,  followed  by  Jett;  Herold  and  Bain- 
bridge  spending  that  night  and  the  greater 
part  of  the  next  day  at  a  Mrs.  Clark's,  while 
Jett  and  Ruggles  went  to  the  Goldman  house 
at  Bowling  Green  kept  by  a  Mr.  Goldman  to 
whose  daughter  Jett  was  engaged. 

Booth  slept  that  night  at  Garrett's  in  a 
room  with  his  two  sons  Jack  and  Willie,  who 
had  just  returned  from  the  war,  and  all  night 
the  force  destined  to  be  his  captors  were 
afoot  in  Virginia  drawing  nearer  and  nearer 
to  his  hiding  place. 


IX 

One  of  the  telegrams  dictated  by  Secretary 
Stanton  from  the  Peterson  house,  in  the  early 
morning  of  April  15th,  was  to  Col.  Lafayette 
C.  Baker,  chief  of  the  National  Service 
Bureau,  then  in  New  York:  "Come  here 
immediately  and  see  if  you  can  find  the  mur- 
derer of  the  president."  Colonel  Baker  ar- 
rived in  Washington  the  same  day. 

His  first  step  was  to  issue  a  circular 
describing  the  assassins  and  offering  a  reward 
for  their  capture.  This  reward,  at  first  only 
$30,000  was  increased  to  a  very  large  sum, 
and  though  so  great  an  incentive  enlisted  the 
services  of  an  army  of  detectives,  amateur 
and  professional,  ten  days  passed  before  the 
slightest  clue  was  obtained.  Then  a  detective 
sent  by  Colonel  Baker  into  lower  Maryland 
found  the  negro  who  had  seen  Booth  and 
Herold  in  Nanjemoy  Cove,  and  sent  him  to 
Washington.  A  large  number  of  photo- 
graphs were  shown  him  from  which  he 
picked  out  pictures  of  Booth  and  Herold  as 
those  of  the  men  he  had  seen. 


82       ASSASSL\ATION  OF  LINCOLN 

At  three  o'clock  on  the  same  day,  Lieut. 
Edward  P.  Doherty  of  the  i6th  New  York 
Cavalry,  with  twenty-five  men.  Sergeant  Bos- 
ton Corbett,  second  in  command,  with  three 
days  rations  and  forage,  were  on  board  the 
steamer  "John  S.  Ide,"  as  a  guard  to  detec- 
tives Lieut.  S.  B.  Baker  and  Capt.  E.  J. 
Conger. 

At  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  the 
party  landed  at  Belle  Plain  on  the  Potomac 
and  the  search  commenced. 

All  night  the  detectives  scoured  the  coun- 
try, representing  themselves  as  of  the  South- 
ern party  in  search  of  two  missing  comrades, 
one  of  them  lame.  Every  house  at  which 
they  made  inquiry  was  the  house  of  a  South- 
ern sympathizer,  and  the  utmost  good  will 
was  shown  them,  but  when  they  rejoined  the 
cavalry  escort  at  three  o'clock  on  the  morn- 
ing of  Tuesday  the  25th  not  the  slightest  clue 
had  been  found. 

After  a  halt  for  rest  and  breakfast  at  the 
house  of  Doctor  Ashton  the  whole  party  set 
out  for  Port  Conway  on  the  Rappahannock. 

At  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
they  stopped  for  dinner  at  Mr.  Turner's, 
within  half  a  mile  of  the  ferry. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        83 

Baker  or  Doherty  (for  each  claimed  the 
honor)  started  on  ahead  of  the  rest,  and  find- 
ing Rollins  questioned  him  closely.  He  ad- 
mitted that  he  had  taken  two  men,  one  of 
whom  was  lame,  across  the  river  the  day 
before  and  identified  the  photographs  of 
Booth  and  Herold.  He  knew  the  other  men 
who  had  crossed  at  the  same  time.  He  could 
not  tell  where  they  had  gone  but  knew  that 
Jett  had  a  sweetheart  at  Bowling  Green  and 
thought  he  must  have  gone  there. 

The  rest  of  the  party  was  immediately 
ordered  up,  and  taking  Rollins  with  them  as 
a  guide  they  started  about  sunset  for  Bowling 
Green. 

Poor  Rollins  was  to  be  another  of  the 
many  victims  of  the  assassin's  crime.  "His 
neighbors  charged  him  with  the  betrayal  of 
Booth  and  ostracised  him  completely  for  a 
period  of  thirty  years.  The  claim  that  he 
had  received  money  for  the  part  he  played 
was  always  denied  by  Rollins  and  the  records 
of  the  treasury  department  show  no  such  pay- 
ment." 

Booth  had  spent  this  day  lying  on  the  lawn 
in  front  of  the  house  playing  with  the  chil- 


84       ASSASSINATlOxN  OF  LINCOLN 


dren.  There  were  no  telegraph  lines  In  the 
neighborhood  and  no  mail  service  at  this 
time;  the  news  of  the  assassination  had  not 
reached  the  Garretts  and  they  had  no  sus- 
picions of  their  agreeable  guest. 

In  the  afternoon  he  got  little  Rob  Garrett, 
a  boy  of  ten,  to  take  down  from  the  wall  a 
large  map  of  the  United  States,  and  spread- 
ing it  on  the  floor  he  traced  several  routes  all 
leading  to  Mexico,  taking  notes  as  he  did  so. 

He  was  on  the  lawn  when,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  Herold  returned  with  Ruggles 
and  Bainbridge. 

Ruggles  says  that  then  and  there  Booth 
gave  him  a  history  of  the  conspiracy  and  his 
flight,  speaking  quietly,  sometimes  without 
emotion  and  sometimes  defiantly  and  now 
and  then  unable  to  repress  a  groan  of  pain. 

He  said  that  the  plot  had  been  to  capture 
Mr.  Lincoln  and  carry  him  a  prisoner  to 
Richmond,  as  he  believed  that  by  such  an  act 
the  war  could  be  brought  to  an  end,  the  South 
being  able  to  dictate  terms  with  such  a  hos- 
tage in  its  hands.  As  this  failed,  he  decided 
at  the  last  moment  to  strike  death  blows  at 
Mr.  Lincoln,  Mr.  Seward,  and  General 
Grant. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        85 

In  the  plot  to  kill,  Payne  alone  was  im- 
plicated with  him,  not  even  Herold  knowing 
what  was  to  be  done.  He  did  not  mention 
the  name  of  Mrs.  Surratt. 

He  said  that  Payne  was  to  kill  Mr.  Sew- 
ard, and  he,  favored  by  the  fact  that  Presi- 
dent Lincoln  and  General  Grant  were  to 
attend  the  theater  together,  was  to  kill  both 
of  them.  General  Grant  having  been  called 
away,  his  life  was  saved,  for  said  Booth,  "I 
would  have  made  no  failure  with  either,  as 
I  had  laid  my  plans  for  success  only." 

That  Andrew  Johnson  might  appear  to  be 
implicated  in  the  plot  of  assassination.  Booth 
said  that  he  had  left  that  morning  a  note  at 
the  hotel. 

It  may  be  remembered  that  Booth's  card 
was  found  on  the  afternoon  of  April  14th  In 
the  box  of  the  vice-president's  secretary  at 
the  KIrkwood,  on  which  was  written  "Don't 
wish  to  disturb  you;  are  you  at  home." 
J.  Wilkes  Booth. 

If  there  was  any  truth  in  Booth's  state- 
ment as  to  the  intended  implication  of  the 
vice-president  the  plan  must  have  been  aban- 
doned at  the  last,  when  his  murder  was  as- 
signed to  Atzerodt. 


86       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

Booth  further  told  Ruggles,  that  he  had 
no  idea  from  the  information  received  about 
Washington,  that  the  war  had  really  ended; 
for  had  he  not  believed  that  it  would  be  kept 
up  by  the  South,  he  would  not  have  struck 
the  blow  as  he  did. 

After  getting  safely  out  of  Washington 
his  intention  was  to  cross  the  river  as  quickly 
as  possible  into  the  Confederacy.  Joining 
Herold  at  a  rendezvous,  they  had  ridden 
hard  through  the  night  to  gain  a  place  of 
safety,  but  having  a  broken  leg,  and  learning 
after  several  days,  through  the  papers,  that 
the  war  was  at  an  end,  he  determined  to 
make  his  way  to  the  silver  mines  of  Mexico, 
feeling  that  the  South  was  no  place  of  refuge 
for  him. 

He  showed  Ruggles  three  five-dollar  bills, 
all  that  he  had  except  a  bill  of  exchange, 
while  Herold  had  not  as  much. 

Ruggles  asked  him  why  he  did  not  attempt 
to  go  to  Europe  and  he  answered  that  there 
was  no  asylum  for  such  as  he  where  monarchs 
ruled,  as  they  feared  their  own  lives  might 
be  in  danger  from  the  example  he  had  set. 

He    seemed    to    feel    that    he    had    been 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        87 

spurred  on  to  the  deed  through  a  duty  he 
owed  the  country  to  bring  the  war  to  an  end, 
and  said  that  he  never  would  be  taken  alive. 
If  he  had  not  broken  his  leg  he  could  readily 
have  distanced  all  pursuit.  He  was  disap- 
pointed at  the  reception  he  met  with  in  Vir- 
ginia and  said  that  he  was  prepared  to  meet 
any  fate. 

Ruggles  examined  the  broken  leg,  and 
speaking  with  some  experience  expressed  the 
belief  that  amputation  was  an  immediate 
necessity  but  probably  would  not  have  saved 
Booth's  Hfe. 

As  Ruggles  and  Bainbridge  were  on  their 
way  back  to  Port  Royal  after  this  visit  to 
Booth,  they  met  a  soldier  of  Bainbridge's 
command  who  warned  them  that  the  town 
was  full  of  Yankees  who  had  learned  that 
Booth  crossed  the  river  the  day  before. 

They  hurried  back  to  Garrett's  to  give  the 
alarm,  seen  and  pursued  for  a  short  distance 
by  Captain  Doherty's  men. 

Booth  was  still  lying  on  the  lawn  when 
they  reached  the  farm  with  the  news  that  his 
enemies  were  on  his  track.  They  advised 
him  to  take  shelter  in  the  woods. 


88       ASSASSLNATION  OF  LINCOLN 

"Get  over  there  at  once,"  said  Bainbridge, 
"and  hide  yourself.  In  those  wooded  ra- 
vines, you  will  never  be  found." 

"Yes,"  said  Ruggles,  "get  there  as  quickly 
as  you  can  and  lose  no  time  in  starting." 

Booth  struggled  to  his  feet  and  replied, 
"I'll  do  as  you  say,  boys,  right  off.  Ride  on ! 
Good  bye !  It  will  never  do  for  you  to  be 
found  in  my  company.  Rest  assured  of  one 
thing,  good  friends,  Wilkes  Booth  will  never 
be  taken  alive." 

Before  he  could  leave  the  lawn  he  saw  his 
pursuers  pass  along  the  road  leaving  behind 
them  the  man  they  sought. 

He  now  determined  to  leave  Garrett's  that 
night  and  offered  Jack  Garrett  $150  for  his 
horse.  The  offer  w^as  refused,  but  Garrett 
consented  to  take  them  to  Guinea  Station,  a 
distance  of  eighteen  miles,  the  next  morning 
and  Booth  paid  him  ten  dollars  in  advance. 

To  explain  his  anxiety  and  the  excitement 
which  he  could  not  conceal  he  said  that  he 
had  had  a  'little  brush  with  the  Yankees  over 
in  Maryland,  and  thought  he  and  Herold 
would  sleep  in  the  barn  that  night. 

The  Garretts  had  now  become  suspicious 
of  their  guests  and  feared  that  under  cover 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        89 

of  sleeping  in  the  barn  they  intended  to 
steal  the  horse  that  they  could  not  buy,  so 
after  Booth  and  Herold  had  gone  to  the 
barn,  they  led  the  horses  into  the  woods  and 
locking  the  barn  door,  slept  in  the  corn  crib 
near  by. 


X 


In  the  early  morning  of  April  26th  the  pur- 
suing party  reached  Bowling  Green  and  sur- 
rounded the  "Goodman  House."  Their 
knock  at  the  door  was  answered  by  Mrs. 
Goodman  who  admitted  that  there  was  a 
Confederate  soldier  in  the  house  and  pointed 
out  his  room.  Upon  being  told  that  he  was 
wanted,  Jett,  for  it  was  he,  immediately  got 
out  of  bed  and  commenced  dressing.  "Where 
are  the  two  men  who  came  with  you  across 
the  river?"  said  Conger.  "Can  I  see  you 
alone?"  Jett  replied.  After  Lieutenants 
Baker  and  Doherty  had  gone  out  the  room 
Jett  said,  "I  know  whom  you  want  and  I  will 
tell  you  where  they  can  be  found.  They  are 
on  the  road  to  Port  Royal  about  three  miles 
this  side  of  that."  "At  whose  house  are 
they?"  "Mr.  Garrett's,  I  will  go  with  you 
and  show  you  where  they  are." 

"You  say  they  are  on  the  road  to  Port 
Royal  —  I  have  just  come  from  there."  Jett 
stopped  a  moment  seeming  to  be  much  em- 


ASSASSLNATION  OF  LINCOLN        91 

barrassed.  He  had  evidently  mistaken  the 
character  of  his  visitors.  "I  thought  you 
came  from  Richmond,"  he  said,  "If  you  have 
come  that  way  you  came  past  them.  I  cannot 
tell  you  whether  they  are  there  now  or  not." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  the  jaded  horses 
and  their  still  more  jaded  riders  were  on 
their  way  back  through  absolute  darkness 
and  amid  choking  dust  to  Garrett's  farm, 
twelve  miles  away. 

Jett  under  threat  of  death  was  their  guide 
with  his  bridle  reins  fastened  to  the  men  on 
either  side  of  him  lest  he  should  escape. 

He  was  another  of  the  many  victims  of 
the  great  crime.  Jilted  by  his  sweetheart, 
ostracised  by  his  friends,  outlawed  by  his 
family,  and  finally  compelled  to  leave  the 
neighborhood,  he  died  in  an  insane  asylum  in 
Baltimore. 

Between  three  and  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  the  party  arrived  at  Garrett's.  Old 
Mr.  Garrett  answered  their  summons  and  to 
their  inquiries  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  the 
two  men  said  they  had  gone  to  the  woods. 

"Bring  me  a  lariat  rope,"  said  Conger, 
"and  I  will  put  that  man  up  to  the  top  of  one 
of  those  locust  trees."     It  might  have  gone 


92       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

hard  with  the  old  man  but  at  this  juncture 
Jack  Garrett  was  brought  in.  "Don't  injure 
father,"  he  said,  "I  will  tell  you  all  about  it. 
The  men  did  go  to  the  woods  last  evening 
when  some  cavalrymen  went  by,  but  they 
came  back  and  wanted  us  to  take  them  to 
Louisa  Court  House.  We  said  we  couldn't 
leave  till  morning,  if  at  all,  we  were  becom- 
ing suspicious  of  them  and  father  told  them 
they  could  not  stay  with  us." 

"Where  are  they  now?" 

"In  the  barn;  my  brother  locked  them  up 
for  fear  they  would  steal  the  horses.  He  is 
now  keeping  watch  in  the  corn  crib." 

The  brother  was  now  brought  in  with  the 
key  of  the  barn.  Lieutenant  Baker  told  him 
he  must  go  in  the  barn  and  get  the  arms  from 
the  men,  "they  know  you  and  you  can  go  in." 

Then  to  the  inmates  of  the  barn  Baker 
said,  "We  are  going  to  send  this  man,  on 
whose  premises  you  are,  in  to  get  your  arms 
and  you  must  come  out  and  deliver  your- 
selves up." 

Despite  his  strenuous  objections.  Jack  Gar- 
rett was  compelled  to  enter  and  presently 
voices  could  be  heard,  finally  the  voice  of  the 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN       93 

tragedian  in  his  last  act,  "You  have  betrayed 
me,  sir;  leave  this  barn  or  I  will  shoot  you." 

As  young  Garrett  came  out  Booth  was 
again  called  upon  to  surrender. 

"For  whom  do  you  take  me?"  he  said. 

"It  doesn't  make  any  difference  —  come 
out." 

"I  am  a  cripple  and  alone.  I  may  be  taken 
by  my  friends." 

Baker  now  warned  him  that  unless  he 
came  out  at  once  the  barn  would  be  fired. 

"Captain,  if  you  will  withdraw  your  men 
a  hundred  yards  I  will  come  out  and  fight 
you." 

"We  did  not  come  here  to  fight,"  said 
Baker. 

"There  is  a  man  here,"  said  Booth,  "who 
wants  to  surrender  awful  bad"  —  then  they 
heard  him  say  to  Herold,  "Leave  me,  will 
you?     Go.     I  don't  want  you  to  stay." 

"Bring  out  your  arms  and  you  can  come." 

Herold  said  he  had  none  and  Booth  con- 
firmed the  statement. 

"He  has  no  arms,  the  arms  are  mine  and 
I  shall  keep  them." 

The   door  was  opened   a   little   way  and 


94        ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

Herold  told  to  put  out  his  hands.  They  were 
seized,  he  was  drawn  out  and  put  under 
guard. 

One  of  the  officers  then  said  to  Booth: 
"You  had  better  come  out  too." 

"No,  I  have  not  made  up  my  mind;  but 
draw  your  men  up  fifty  paces  off  and  give  me 
a  chance  for  my  life.  I  will  not  be  taken 
alive." 

The  offer  was  refused,  and  he  was  given 
two  minutes  to  give  himself  up. 

"Well,  then,  my  brave  boys,"  came  the 
answer  that  could  be  heard  by  the  women 
gathered  on  the  porch,  "prepare  a  stretcher 
for  me."  Then  after  a  slight  pause  he  add- 
ed, "One  more  stain  on  the  glorious  old 
banner." 

Conger  drew  a  handful  of  corn  blades 
through  a  crack  in  the  barn  and  set  fire  to 
them.  In  a  moment  the  interior  of  the  barn 
was  brilliant  with  light. 

Booth  was  leaning  against  the  mow;  he 
sprang  forward,  his  crutch  under  his  arm  and 
his  carbine  levelled  in  the  direction  of  the 
flames.  Then  dropping  his  crutch  he  hob- 
bled towards  the  door.  When  near  the 
middle  of  the  barn  he  stopped,  drew  himself 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        95 

up,  and  seemed  to  take  in  the  entire  situation. 
His  hat  was  gone,  his  lips  were  firmly  com- 
pressed, and  there  was  in  his  eyes  an  expres- 
sion of  mingled  hatred  and  defiance.  The 
flames  had  now  reached  the  rafters.  He 
dropped  his  carbine,  raised  his  revolver,  and 
made  a  spring  for  the  door.  There  was  a 
shot  and  he  fell  forward  on  his  face. 

Sergeant  Boston  Corbett,  an  eccentric 
character,  had  stolen  up  to  the  side  of  the 
barn,  placed  his  revolver  at  a  crack,  and  fired 
the  fatal  shot.  This  at  least  was  the  ac- 
cepted story,  but  Major  Ruggles  was  of  the 
opinion  that  Booth  shot  himself. 

"Having  asked  Captain  Doherty,"  says 
Ruggles,  "to  fall  back  fifty  paces  with  his 
men  and  give  him  a  chance  to  come  out,  and 
his  request  being  refused,  deserted  by  Her- 
old,  the  barn  on  fire,  seeing  that  he  must 
perish  in  the  flames  or  be  taken  to  Washing- 
ton and  hanged.  Booth,  helpless,  alone  and 
at  bay,  placed  his  pistol  at  the  back  of  his 
head  and  took  his  own  life.  No  one  saw 
Corbett  fire,  and  one  chamber  of  Booth's 
revolver,  held  in  his  hand,  was  empty  and  I 
am  by  no  means  alone  in  the  belief  that  he 
killed  himself." 


96       ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

As  Corbett  was  crossing  the  lawn  about 
daybreak  Conger  asked  him  why  he  had  fired 
contrary  to  orders.  Corbett  saluted  and 
pointed  upwards,  "God  Almighty  directed 
me,"  he  said. 

"Well,"  said  Conger,  "I  guess  he  did,  or 
you  couldn't  have  hit  Booth  through  that 
crack." 

Corbett  afterwards  said  that  unless  he  had 
fired,  Lieutenant  Baker,  who  stood  at  the 
door,  would  have  been  killed.  Some  years 
afterwards  he  became  insane  and  was  con- 
fined in  a  Kansas  asylum,  where  he  was  still 
living  in  1889. 

As  soon  as  Booth  fell  the  oflicers  rushed 
into  the  barn  and  carried  him  out  and  laid 
him  under  a  tree  on  the  lawn.  Water  was 
dashed  in  his  face  and  brandy  and  water 
given  him  but  he  could  not  swallow.  Open- 
ing his  eyes,  he  said,  "Tell  mother  I  died  for 
my  country.  I  did  what  I  thought  was  for 
the  best." 

The  heat  from  the  burning  barn  now  be- 
came so  great  that  he  was  moved  to  the 
piazza  of  the  house.      Dr.  Urquhart,  a  physi- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        97 

cian  of  Port  Royal,  was  summond  but  could 
do  nothing. 

Under  the  influence  of  stimulants  applied 
to  his  lips  he  revived  a  little  and  said,  "Oh, 
kill  me,  kill  me  quick." 

His  hand  was  lifted  up  but  fell  back  at  his 
side.  He  turned  his  eyes  and  murmured 
"Useless,  useless."  It  was  about  quarter 
past  three  when  he  was  carried  out  of  the 
barn,  and  at  a  little  after  seven  he  died. 

The  bullet  had  struck  him  in  almost  the 
exact  spot  where  his  own  shot  had  struck  the 
president,  and  he  died  at  almost  the  same 
time  in  the  day. 

Conger  took  from  his  body  the  diary,  a 
large  bowie  knife,  two  pistols,  a  compass,  a 
scarf  pin  presented  by  Dan  Bryant,  and  a 
draft  on  the  Ontario  Bank  of  Canada  for 
£60,  and  started  at  once  for  Washington. 
The  diary  was  given  to  Secretary  Stanton 
with  the  other  articles,  but  was  not  produced 
or  even  referred  to  on  the  military  trial. 

It  was  put  in  evidence  on  the  trial  of 
Surratt. 


XI 


While  breakfast  was  being  prepared 
Booth's  body  was  sewed  up  in  a  saddle 
blanket  and  placed  in  a  rickety  market  wagon 
belonging  to  an  old  negro,  and  Lieutenant 
Baker  with  a  corporal  set  out  with  it  for 
Belle  Plain.  The  cavalry  followed  later  with 
Herold  and  the  other  prisoners. 

Some  time  after  crossing  the  Rappahan- 
nock, Baker  discovered  that  they  had  mis- 
taken their  route.  The  corporal  was  sent 
back  to  urge  the  cavalry  to  follow  and  Baker 
was  left  alone  with  his  negro  driver,  in  the 
enemy's  country.  To  complete  his  discom- 
fiture the  king  bolt  of  the  old  wagon  broke 
and  the  body  lurched  heavily  forward.  The 
army  blanket  was  wet  with  blood  which 
trickled  down  on  the  axle.  Some  of  it  fell 
upon  the  hand  of  the  old  negro  as  he  crawled 
under  the  wagon  to  repair  the  break.  Terri- 
fied he  exclaimed,  "It  will  nebber  wash  off,  it 
am  de  blood  of  a  murderer,"  and  tried  to 
escape,  but  Baker  forced  him  to  go  on. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN        99 

After  a  hot  and  dusty  journey  of  thirty 
miles,  at  twilight  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
Potomac  to  find  that  the  landing  place  was  a 
mile  up  the  river.  They  could  see  the  "Ide" 
lying  at  the  wharf,  but  they  had  no  boat  with 
which  to  reach  it.  Hiding  the  body  under 
some  willows  on  the  shore  in  charge  of  the 
old  darkey,  Baker  had  to  go  back  a  distance 
of  two  miles  before  reaching  the  road  to  the 
wharf  where  Lieutenant  Doherty  and  his 
command  had  already  arrived. 

The  body  was  placed  on  the  deck  of  the 
John  S.  Ide,  which  immediately  started  for 
Washington.  Then  it  was  put  on  board  the 
gunboat  "Montauk"  on  a  carpenter's  bench 
under  guard,  and  the  next  morning  was  iden- 
tified and  the  autopsy  performed. 

As  soon  as  Conger  had  made  his  report  to 
Colonel  Baker,  the  latter  at  once  went  to  Sec- 
retary Stanton.  "I  rushed  into  the  room," 
relates  Colonel  Baker,  and  said  'we  have  got 
Booth.'  Secretary  Stanton  was  distinguished 
during  the  whole  war  for  his  coolness,  but  I 
never  saw  such  an  exhibition  of  it  in  my  life 
as  at  that  time.  He  put  his  hands  over  his 
eyes  and  lay  for  nearly  a  minute  without  say- 
ing a  word.     Then  he  got  up,  put  on  his  coat, 


loo     ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

and  inquired  how  the  capture  had  come 
about." 

On  his  return  Lieutenant  Baker  related  the 
story  in  detail.  Mr.  Stanton  held  Booth's 
carbine  and  when  Baker  had  finished  his 
recital,  handed  it  to  him  saying:  "Are  you 
accustomed  to  using  a  carbine?  If  so,  what 
is  the  matter  with  this  one?  It  cannot  be 
discharged." 

Upon  examination  it  was  found  that  a 
cartridge  had  slipped  out  of  position  so  that 
when  the  lever  was  worked  it  could  not  be 
thrown  under  the  hammer.  Perhaps  it  was 
for  this  reason  that  Booth  could  not  use  it  in 
the  barn. 

On  April  28th  Colonel  Baker  received 
orders  to  dispose  of  Booth's  body  so  that  his 
Confederate  friends  could  not  get  it. 

With  Lieutenant  Baker  he  reached  the 
gunboat  about  dark.  Again  the  body  was 
sewn  up  in  an  army  blanket  and  lowered  into 
a  small  boat  and  a  heavy  ball  and  chain  were 
placed  in  the  boat  to  convey  the  impression 
to  the  many  who  looked  on  that  the  body  was 
to  be  sunk  in  the  river. 

In  the  gathering  darkness  the  boat  was 
allowed  to  drift  down  the   river  to  Geese- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN      loi 

borough  Point,  and  when  Its  occupants  were 
assured  that  they  had  not  been  followed  they 
pulled  slowly  back  until  they  were  under  the 
walls  of  the  old  Penitentiary,  A  hole  had 
been  let  in  to  the  masonry  close  to  the  water's 
edge  and  through  this  the  body  was  carried 
into  one  of  the  cells.  A  huge  stone  in  the 
floor  had  been  raised  and  a  shallow  grave 
dug  under  it  and  at  midnight  Booth's  body 
was  placed  in  it,  the  slab  replaced,  and  the 
two  ofl^cers  returned  to  Washington. 

For  several  years  no  one  but  Colonel  and 
Lieutenant  Baker  and  two  or  three  other 
officers  knew  what  disposition  had  been  made 
of  Booth's  body. 

Some  time  after  permission  was  given  for 
the  removal  of  the  remains  to  Baltimore 
where  they  were  buried  in  the  family  plot  at 
Greenmount  Cemetery. 


XII 

On  May  nth,  1865,  one  week  after  the 
body  of  Lincoln  had  been  burled  in  Oak 
Ridge  Cemetery  at  Springfield,  the  trial  of 
Payne,  Herold,  Atzerodt,  Mrs.  Surratt, 
Arnold,  O'Laughlin,  Dr.  Mudd,  and  Span- 
gler  was  commenced  at  the  old  Penitentiary 
in  the  Arsenal  grounds  before  a  military  com- 
mission. Its  members  were  Generals  David 
Hunter,  Lew  Wallace,  August  V.  Kautz, 
A.  P.  Howe,  R.  S.  Foster,  J.  A.  Elkin,  F.  H. 
Hawes,  and  Colonels  C.  H.  Tompkins  and 
D.  R.  Clendennin, 

The  judge  advocate  and  recorder  was 
Hon.  John  A.  Bingham  and  Col.  H.  L. 
Burnett. 

The  prisoners  were  represented  by  Rev- 
erdy  Johnson,  Thos.  Ewing,  Jr.,  Frederick 
Stone,  Frederick  A.  Aiken,  W.  E.  Doster, 
and  Walter  S.  Cox. 

On  June  30th  they  were  convicted.  On 
Monday,  July  5th,  sentence  was  passed  upon 
the  prisoners,  and  on  the  same  day  it  was 


ASSASSINATlOxN  OF  LINCOLN      103 

approved  by  President  Johnson.  Payne, 
Herold,  Atzerodt,  and  Mrs.  Surratt  were 
sentenced  to  be  hanged,  Mudd,  Arnold,  and 
O'Laughlin  to  imprisonment  for  life  in  the 
Dry  Tortugas,  and  Spangler  to  imprisonment 
for  six  years. 

Their  sentences  were  made  known  to  the 
prisoners  on  Thursday,  July  6th.  On  the 
morning  of  the  next  day  a  writ  of  habeas 
corpus  was  granted  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Sur- 
ratt to  which  General  Hancock  made  return 
of  the  order  of  the  president  suspending  the 
writ. 

At  half-past  one  on  the  same  day  Payne, 
Herold,  Atzerodt,  and  Mrs.  Surratt  were 
hanged. 

On  July  25th  Mudd,  Arnold,  O'Laughlin 
and  Spangler  arrived  at  Dry  Tortugas  on  the 
steamer  "Florida." 

During  the  fourth  year  of  their  confine- 
ment yellow  fever  broke  out  in  the  prison. 
O'Laughlin  died  September  23rd  of  the 
fever,  and  as  the  resident  surgeon  also  fell  a 
victim  Dr.  Mudd  was  called  upon  to  attend 
the  sick  and  his  skill  and  zeal  saved  many 
lives.  After  the  recovery  of  Spangler  and 
Arnold,  the  doctor  himself  was  seized  with 


I04     ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

the  fever,  and  his  recovery  was  due  to  the 
care  of  Spangler. 

On  February  8th,  1869,  Dr.  Mudd  was 
pardoned  by  President  Johnson,  and  Span- 
gler and  Arnold  on  March  ist,  1869. 

Dr.  Mudd  returned  to  his  home  in  Mary- 
land and  there  after  the  lapse  of  two  years 
Spangler  made  his  way.  The  affection  of 
this  man  for  the  doctor,  whom  he  had  never 
met  before  the  trial,  was  so  strong  as  to  be 
pathetic. 

Spangler  died  there  in  1879,  and  the  doc- 
tor in  1882  and  each  left  a  sworn  statement, 
it  is  said,  treating  fully  the  circumstances 
which  led  to  their  imprisonment,  and  each 
protesting  his  innocence  to  the  last. 

John  H.  Surratt  claimed  to  have  heard  of 
the  assassination  while  in  Elmira,  from  the 
newspapers,  on  the  morning  following,  and 
of  his  suspected  complicity  in  the  plot  on  the 
next  morning  while  en  route  to  New  York 
City. 

He  fled  to  Montreal  where  he  remained 
concealed  by  Roman  Catholic  priests  for 
nearly  five  months.  He  took  the  steamer 
"Montreal"    to    Quebec    September     15th, 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN      105 

1865,  and  on  the  i6th  sailed  in  the  "Peru- 
vian" for  England. 

From  England  he  went  to  Paris  and  thence 
to  Rome,  where,  under  the  name  of  Watson, 
he  enlisted  in  the  Papal  Zouaves.  While  in 
this  corps  he  was  recognized  by  St.  Marie,  a 
Canadian  acquaintance,  who  betrayed  him 
and  although  there  was  no  extradition  treaty 
between  the  United  States  and  the  Pope,  he 
was  arrested. 

On  the  day  following,  while  under  the 
guard  of  six  men,  he  leaped  blindly  from  a 
rocky  precipice  over  one  hundred  feet  high, 
and  alighting  by  chance  on  a  projecting  rock 
thirty  feet  below,  clambered  down,  escaped, 
reached  Naples  in  the  course  of  a  week,  and 
sailed  to  Alexandria  on  the  same  vessel  which 
carried  the  instructions  to  the  consul  there 
that  led  to  his  arrest. 

He  was  brought  back  by  the  "Swatara" 
of  the  European  squadron.  He  sailed  from 
Alexandria  December  21st,  1866,  arrived  at 
Cape  Henry  February  i8th,  1867,  and  about 
the  2ist  he  was  delivered  at  Washington  and 
tried  there  by  a  civil  court. 

The  trial  commenced  June  17th,  1867,  and 


io6     ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN 

ended  August  lOth,  more  than  two  hundred 
witnesses  being  examined. 

The  jury  disagreed.  A  second  indictment 
was  found  against  him  but  the  district  attor- 
ney entered  a  nolle-proseqiii  and  he  was  re- 
leased from  custody  June  22nd,  1868. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 
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THE  ASSASSINATION  OF  LINCOLN  CHGO 


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